


Personal Dimensions

by Entwife_Incognito



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Honeymoon, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Injuries, Period Sex, Physical attack, Porn, Romance, Vacation, Vibrators, smutty smut smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 05:50:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 42,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8653270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Entwife_Incognito/pseuds/Entwife_Incognito
Summary: Developing intimacy is the happy job of a new couple. The crushing number of cases to work made Teresa and Patrick's first months together frustrating and disjointed. Finally they have a week away to enjoy, alone together. Nine chapters. Lots of changes, expected and unexpected events as they become accustomed to being in a committed relationship after so many years of independence and solitude. It's a kind of honeymoon, their first time to be completely alone and away from the usual settings of work, his place or her place. Lots and lots of making love, with occasional adventure and the adjustments and snares that happen between a man and a woman. Okay. Porn. Disclaimer: I own nothing about The Mentalist.Initially posted at FFnet on June 2, 2014. Now here, with edits for improved readability.





	1. Thursday and Friday

What a time to start a love affair with Patrick Jane.  


They'd had case after case, most of them grisly and difficult, stealing the time Jane and Lisbon needed to explore the new aspects of their relationship and develop the depth in their personal lives that they already had professionally. That time was denied them by the intensive and demanding nature of their work. Their team had been splintered to slivers trying to cover it all. They spent every spare moment they could together. But the cases were all over the region, they weren't always assigned to the same ones, and many required overnight stays. Too much separation. And many times, when together, too exhausted but to fall into each other's arms and sleep. They tried to be grateful for that much, but the situation sometimes created unbearable longing for the new couple. They'd managed only glimpses of a real life together.  


The overtime was huge, but government policy for salaried personnel was that it be used as comp time rather than added pay. Teresa was glad of the policy. They needed the time off, not the extra money.  


Their passion-filled few nights at the Blue Bird Lodge promised a shared depth of sensuality and that ease of intimacy in one another's company they'd been able to explore rarely since. They both felt the loss. Natural expressions of personality in the intimacy of trust and privacy had fascinating aspects that created a craving for one another, beyond what either had felt in a long time, Teresa really not ever. They were deprived, grumpy and frustrated, hungry for each other. By the time the grueling few months suddenly came to a halt, the lull left them dazed while they took a breath and drew their bearings.  


The team lazed at their desks or in the break room, ostensibly looking through cold cases. But no one had been able to decompress enough to focus on those yet.  


Steam drifted from a cup of hot tea as Jane lifted it to his lips, holding the saucer roughly underneath. Reflexively, he closed his eyes over a contented smile. Lisbon watched him from her desk, then came to sit on the other end, gracefully turning to her side to rest her head on the cushioned arm. Jane had just enough time to raise his cup and saucer to be sure she didn't send them flying with her foot. He took special care to shelter her from any spill by closely shielding the cup with its saucer.  


Lowering his eyes he quietly enjoyed the line of her body: her small feet and dainty ankle; the curve of her calf to the back of her knee; the swell of her thigh as it met a bottom that set his blood on fire, luscious mounds that made his fingers twitch whenever he gazed there. The reason he always had his hand on the small of her back was to let it lie close to her ass, slide up her back and shoulders, pet the back of her neck. It was all one line, a thing of beauty. And he was the man she offered her body to. It still made him gasp with joy.  


"We need to get away for awhile, Lisbon, take some time off."  


"I know. At least a few days, and right away. But I'm too tired to plan anything very involved."  


Jane smiled broadly and set his cup into its saucer with a clatter, betraying a thrill of excitement. "Let's just pick someplace and go. But it has to be at least five days. Three is not enough. Traveling takes time, too."  


Lisbon considered the special demands of her new life. Being a healthy, happy couple was a dimension so new that it made her a little nervous sometimes. Was she 'doing it right?' Her heart said it needed her full attention, not just what they could squeeze in. "It's late spring. Let's go to the beach. It shouldn't be too hot. We can take the silver bucket and hook it up somewhere. I say, a week. All the hours we've been working, we'll have plenty of comp time. Even more time with the weekend on either end."  


"Teresa! You're volunteering for a trip in the Airstream." The one trip she'd made with him didn't count. Cho was there. And besides, they had been on very awkward terms and hardly said one word to each other. "And taking so much time off? Agent Lisbon! You have changed."  


Rolling to her back, Lisbon gently nudged his arm with her toe that she wanted to see his face. She watched his eyes travel the surface of her body, stopping briefly at the vee of her pants and taking in her entire pelvis and belly. She liked how he looked at her. There was hunger in it. His eyes softened with pleasure and what almost looked like gratitude as he surveyed her bustline, then turned the lights of his sea green eyes to her face. Love and desire showed openly there and she smiled back at him, returning his feelings. They could say so much to one another without words.  


He caught her smile, eyes liquid and open. He hardly believed his reality these days. His beautiful, desirable Teresa lay relaxed on his couch, with him, at work, looking up at him with eyes the color of deep forest sunlight, loving him. He was struck in the heart again, and could only gaze at her.  


Lisbon spoke, her voice low and serious. "We're important, Jane. We need the time. It's not right to shortchange . . . u- us."  


A powerful longing burned in his chest, undermining the control of emotions and words if he tried to speak. His response was a slow nod.  


"How about Corpus Christi? If we take our hut with us we don't have to try for last minute reservations."  


Clearing his throat, he managed a rough, "You're a very practical woman." She'd said 'our' hut! And not the scornful 'Silver Bucket.'  


That goofy smile -- all sappy love. It made her eyes sparkle. He needed some teasing to lift his spirits a little. "You're not off the hook. Luxury hotels when we get some real time off. When I've been here a year, I get a month's vacation."  


Jane eyes went wide and he held his mouth in surprise, cocking his head at her. A month off! He couldn't imagine it!  


Lisbon winked with a knowing smile. "Federal jobs have some great benefits." Stretching for his hand, she squeezed the long fingers he reached to her. "You got me a great job, Patrick. I've never thanked you for it."  


He returned the wink "You're welcome. I could never stop thinking about you. Ever. I always wanted to be with you. Make up what I had made you lose."  


"But it thrills me to know how much you loved me even when we were apart. I pined for you. I understand you now. And that's in our past." She wanted to curl under his arm and hug his ribs until he begged for mercy. But it _was_ , so she returned to their original subject. "We'll go someplace nice when I get vacation."  


"Done. We need our honeymoon."  


Lisbon looked at him, her eyes dewy and her lips parted in the emotion his words always brought. This was a recurring theme with Patrick. He considered their bond a marriage, even though he hadn't asked for her hand and still wore his ring. She hardly thought how he upset tradition and sense that way. She totally understood his point of view and, to the extent that she accepted it in him, she shared it. They were married. In the strictest sense it would be common law with the required passage of time. But Patrick would never declare her as common law, nor she him. That he thought of her as his wife and himself as her husband told the truth of what he wanted with her. They would formally marry. He was that kind of man and she wanted it with him. Looked like it might be during vacation time. But the jackass would still have to ask! She arched her eyebrow at him.  


"The first of many honeymoons." Jane slurped the last of his tea and set his things down. He wanted to take her in his arms, feel her vulnerability to him, so much in love with him. He whispered, "I love you, my beautiful girl. I dream of getting away with you. Always with you." How did he get so lucky? Others might look at his life and think, 'That poor bastard.' He couldn't think of himself that way anymore.  


Teresa stood in front of him, beckoning with her eyes. When he stood, too, she wrapped her arms around him in a close embrace, her fingertips digging rhythmically into his back as she held him. "I love you," she rumbled into his ear.  


A brief, close hug and some whispered words were as far as they would carry it, in the bullpen.  


Cho peeped at them from over his book, shook the disbelief from his mind and, turning his chair away to concentrate on the doorway to the bullpen, went back to reading. Right on time, Fischer strode in and gave him a warm glance before she saw that they were not alone.  


Jane and Lisbon smiled as they watched Fischer suddenly act as if she had remembered something and almost pirouetted as she stopped and turned to go out the way she'd come in.  


Cho's face registered something that might be a frown and thought how graceful and tall she was, long good-looking legs.  


"I think we're a bit in the way here," Lisbon said softly and grinned. "I'm going to Benefits to check when I'm eligible for vacation."  


"Yeah. Cho and Fischer need a little privacy. I'll see Abbott about our week's comp time. We can leave Saturday morning, if you like."  


Her eyes shone. "I like."  


Jane knocked on Abbott's open door.  


His boss looked up. "Jane. Come in." He motioned to choose a chair in front of his desk. "How does it feel to take a breather?"  


'Still trying to adjust, Dennis. It's been pretty hectic. Now it's dull as ditchwater. But I'm not complaining. We need a little lull."  


They let a little silence creep in, both relaxed. Abbott smiled and then a corner of his mouth quirked. "It's good to see you and Lisbon happy and getting along again."  


Jane looked the man in the eyes. "I almost lost it all. Now, I have everything. You were right. I'm grateful for everything you did to help me."  


"I was right?"  


"Yeah. I believed my own con. I nearly ruined my life. But worse, I nearly ruined Teresa's."  


"You had to reach bottom, I guess. How's the ankle?"  


"Oh, it's fine. Never better."  


"Good." Abbott looked at the consultant expectantly.  


"Teresa and I want to use our comp time next week to get away and relax. I needed to clear it with you."  


"No problem. Government policy is that comp time be used as soon as possible." He pushed two forms to Jane. "Each of you, fill one out. Get it back to me pronto and you're set."  


Jane reached for the forms.  


"Oh." Abbott nodded at the ring still on Jane's left hand. "You still putting that off?"  


Twirling the ring, Jane looked at it thoughtfully. "Yeah. Teresa doesn't seem to mind." He looked at Abbott. "For now, anyway."  


"Just don't fool yourself again, huh? We can't take all the drama you're capable of generating. I know it can't be completely avoided. But if we could keep it to cases, I'd appreciate it."  


A flash of irritation showed in Jane's clenched jaw and disappeared quickly as he regained control. He needed to consider what the man said. He'd proven himself perceptive, even wise, his interest brotherly and well intentioned. Nodding, he smiled and made eye contact. "Thanks, Dennis."  


"Any time, Patrick. Good luck."  


Still fiddling absently with his ring, Patrick saw Teresa coming down the hall to him and then saw Fischer pass behind her on the way to the bullpen. In that moment a memory from his exile on the island floated into consciousness and then stabbed his heart with new urgency.  


In laying her honey trap to snare him for the FBI and cement her new job, this job, Fischer had invited him on a "date." So lonely and despairing, especially since he constantly faced his own fate in poor mumbling Roger at the bar, he'd decided right then. He would never be able to get back to Teresa. He would remove his ring and move on. If someone would accuse him of opening the possibility of sex with Fischer that night, he could not deny it. Luckily for him, fate had literally kicked him in the balls, wiping out any thought of sex. He'd passed out, drunk, in his bed. In a quiet panic when he woke and saw Fischer still in his room the next morning, he'd never been so relieved to know by the feel of his body that he had not had sex with her. Now, knowing her, he huffed a quiet laugh at even the thought of a romantic relationship with her.  


But he had never told Lisbon. Fischer couldn't have either, or Lisbon would have confronted him with it by now. He trembled to think of Fischer at any time in the future letting it "slip." He'd totally forgotten, but Teresa would be crushed, thinking he had hidden it from her. His stomach dropped to his feet and his mouth went dry. He had to tell her before that happened! And he dreaded it.  


Lisbon met him in the hallway on her return from Benefits, smiling and waving a printout. "October! I went ahead and scheduled the time. We can change it later if we need to."  


Breathing away enough unease to give his attention to Teresa's good news, he managed an enthusiastic smile. A vacation! For a month with her! "Fall is a really nice time to get away. The weather should be great! Now all we have to do is decide where we want to go."  


"Plenty of time." She stood on tiptoe and pecked his lips. "It's Thursday. We'll handle any laundry tonight and start packing for the beach."  


"Let's keep it simple so we don't have to keep track of much." He knew it might be a useless request.  


"Agreed. Meet you at home. I need to pick up sunblock and a few things. I'll bring supper. What's your pleasure, Patrick?"  


"How about a couple of big fat burgers and fries?" He knew it was her favorite fast food and there was a place whose menu they both loved.  


"Good choice!"  


"Bring me one of their lemonades—a large!"  


Cho was out when they entered the bullpen again. Lisbon sat at her desk and happily started a list of things to bring with a column for what she needed to buy. Smiling at her bent head, her rich brown hair falling forward, Jane settled on his couch for more rest. "Where's Cho?"  


"Don't be nosey, Jane. Let him alone. You don't have to know everybody's business."  


"Oh, but Cho business. That's some intensely cool business."  


"We have our own business." She winked at him.  


Smiling, Jane closed his eyes and lapsed into pleasant daydreams of holding Teresa when they got home, kissing her until she panted for more. She would make him senseless in no time, instinct overtaking both of them in a hot liquid dance of pleasure. He craved her touch. Just knowing her hands touched him, her lips kissed him, her mouth and fingers were on his body was enough to bring him to the edge, barely conscious of anything but Teresa, who would moan for his touch, his body, his mouth. Her desire would draw everything out of him that he could give.  


Lisbon interrupted his reverie. "Get another cup of tea or something, Jane. You're breathing heavy over there."  


Caught out! His chuckle was low and suggestive, but he sat and took a few moments to calm himself before he got up. When he walked by her desk, he tapped it. "Can't wait to be with you tonight."  


"It's quitting time. I'll be there as soon as I can. Leaving now, and I will hurry home to you."  


"I'll just have a cup and be waiting for you there."  


"How about throwing in a load of laundry?"  


"You got it!" He loved being domestic with Lisbon. It pleased her so much and his life was a garden if she was happy. She tried just as hard to add to his happiness. A ribbon of sadness wove through him as he watched her leave, knowing he would have to tell her about the ring. Tonight.  


Home for Jane and Lisbon was a larger house in the same style and the same neighborhood as the one she sold for the move to DC. Luckily her furniture and surplus belongings had been stored in Austin. These started the new couple comfortably in their new house. Lisbon's old bed was in the guest room. They hadn't even needed to discuss that.  


They had almost bought a king-sized bed, but didn't want to be tempted that far apart. Instead they purchased a queen-sized pole bed that fit nicely in their spacious bedroom. There, he found peace, snuggled into her arms, listening to her heart as she played with his curls.  


They were not far past the stage where he met her at the door with a hard on and divested her of clothing and goods in the entryway. Often now he let her put her things away and even take a shower if she wanted it, though he frequently joined her there.  


Giving Teresa a little more space had created many moments when she stripped his pants and had her mouth on him before he could set down his tea. Or, if he was on the couch, got his pants to his knees to straddle him. Or she might lie in his arms and bare her breasts for his mouth. More often, she simply kissed and held him, petted his body in long strokes and whispered into his ear until he was trembling to take her. They were still developing the sexual nature of their union. It required frequency and time. All interrupted by these last months of work.  


Lisbon heard the washing machine going as she entered the house and smiled. She loved coming home to Jane. He made everything easy. Her Patrick, who he was with her—she never would have guessed that side of him. She'd seen hints of his kindness and empathy with victims over the years and even a few suspects. But it couldn't have prepared her for a tender, devoted man who liked to be cuddled almost as much as he liked sex. Well, it wasn't too distant a second, anyway. He couldn't love all the mundane things he did to make their lives comfortable, cheerful and fun, but he was genuinely happy to do them and thrived on her affectionate recognition of it. She was madly in love with him and eager to share the pleasures of sex, cuddling and companionship. The bond they shared was physical, emotional and sexual, it's power sometimes overwhelming her. No amount of talk could prepare a person for it. The profundity was living it.  


She heard drawers opening and closing in the bedroom. Patrick had started their packing. Setting the shopping bags on the countertop and the food on the table, she went in to him. For all the noise, there was very little set in piles on the side of the bed.  


"That's all the clothes you're packing for me?"  


"Yes. You can choose a nice dress for when we go to a restaurant for dinner. A bathing suit, two pairs of shorts and a pair of jeans. Tee shirts, a blouse, a sweater and a light jacket. A pair of shoes to dress up whatever you have on. Sneakers and socks. Sandals. You choose the underwear. One bag of toiletries, most of which we'll share. A sex toy or two, and lube." He turned to her with a loopy grin and waggled his eyebrows at her. "If you don't like what I've chosen, that's fine. Just substitute what you want. But keep the same number of things."  


Lisbon blushed and laughed. "Seems you've thought of everything. Except my sundresses. But they won't take up much space. I can see how it works. Food's on the table. Let's eat before it gets cold."  


He trailed her to the kitchen. "I'm serious, Lisbon. The Airstream is a small space, really, and we won't want to move things every time we have to sit down or cook."  


"Three sundresses, Jane."  


"That's just the start of it."  


"Two, then."  


Much as he hated to deprive himself of the sight of her in them, he had to insist, drawing a line somewhere for their comfort in traveling. "One. That's it." He smiled, noting the sudden calm settle on her irritated face. She would tuck the other two in her purse.  


"Fine." She'd pack the other ones in her purse. Any wrinkles would shake out of the fabric easily.  


"No more clothes, Lisbon. There won't be room. I'm firm on that." He got down plates and glasses, pulled two bottles of water from the fridge as they passed and set them on the table with the food. Lisbon set it on their plates.  


Before they could sit down, she was pressing on him, hugging his waist and molding her belly to his hips. Jane put his arms around her shoulders and kissed her.  
She moved her head to whisper in his ear, "A little firmness would be nice." She licked the shell and then kissed it.  


Jane squeezed her tighter, groaning quietly and rocking her where they stood. His sigh was tremulous. "Teresa. There's something I need to tell you tonight after dinner."  


Trying to judge his mood, she pulled away to look closely at his face and saw sadness in his eyes. "Is it very bad?"  


"I don't think so. Something from the past that I decided I need to tell you today. I should have told you earlier, but it's not something I think about often. Shoved it away, I guess." He hugged her and told her he loved her very much. When he released her, he smiled and quickly changed the subject.  


"Eat first." He pulled out her chair. "And you won't change my mind about how much to pack."  


After dinner, Lisbon brought a bottle of water to the couch where Jane was finishing his tea. She kissed his cheek and settled against him. "Now what do you have to tell me? Why does it make you sad?"  


"Because of how lonely and desperate I felt. I made a mistake. I thought I'd never see you again. I did something, trying to move on. I was so relieved when nothing happened, I just . . . made it go away."  


"In Venzuela?"  


"Yes."  


"Well . . . if it wasn't important enough to give it a place in your memory palace . . . "  


"It wasn't at the time. She was just passing through, I thought. When Abbott brought me back to the states . . . and I saw . . . Agent Fischer . . . well, I was really glad nothing happened."  


Lisbon suddenly pulled away, her stomach taking flight. "She? Fischer? She was on your island?"  


In another situation, Jane would have chuckled at how Lisbon made his exile sound like a stranding á la Gilligan's Island. He certainly couldn't laugh now, her eyes liquid and sad, waiting to be hurt. "The FBI sent her as a honey trap to lure me in. In its way, it worked. By making me realize it was my chance to get back to you, Teresa." He took her hand and she didn't pull it away.  


"You—you slept with her?"  


He wanted to kiss her so badly. Her mouth was open and turned down in a wide grimace of pain. "No! No. I didn't." He took her other hand and met her gaze. "What I did . . . you might think it was . . . worse."  


Lisbon was relieved about the sex, but confused. What could be worse than sleeping with Fischer? Lisbon knew he had almost no respect for her. But that was now. It must have been different on the island. He was so alone and hopeless. Without her, she reminded herself.  


Jane watched her process what he'd said so far. He sighed. "She asked me to dinner. And I, I was flattered. I wanted to go. I was so lonely, Teresa."  


"I know."  


"I asked her dancing. I drank too much. I got beaten up."  


"Beaten up?"  


"Yeah, the local drug lord and his lackeys worked me over good. Kicked me in the nuts." He smiled wanly. "I think of it as Fate."  


"You don't believe in Fate, Patrick. Are you saying you wanted to sleep with her?"  


"I don't know what I wanted. I was lonely." Squeezing her fingers, he plunged in. "But when I was getting ready to go out with her, all I could think was what a fool I'd been to believe I'd ever see you again. Any more than I'd see Angela. So, I, I . . . I . . . took off my ring, Teresa."  


She stared at him, her mouth as round as her eyes. "To sleep with her."  


"I thought it might be a possibility. But it never happened. The real reason I removed my ring was to sort of force myself, to move on . . . to make it possible to move on. When I woke up the next morning and she was still there-."  


"She was in your bed?" Lisbon's voice had raised a register and several decibels.  


"No! No! She was just in the room. She still had her clothes on. No one had been in bed with me, Teresa. I passed out, drunk and beaten. She made me tea and left."  


"She stayed, but she didn't sleep with you, you didn't . . . ?"  


"No. I was dismayed . . . sad and guilty that she was there. I thought we might have, at first. But my body . . . you know . . . nothing had . . . changed about it."  


Lisbon pulled her hands away and crossed her arms. "You checked to feel if you were . . . sticky."  


Maintaining eye contact, Jane sighed. "Yes. I put my ring back on after she left. It wasn't magic. It couldn't make me move on. Only you could do that. When she walked into the FBI conference room that day, I realized she'd played me for a mark. I was an idiot. I should have known. She wasn't subtle or skilled at all. I just . . . needed . . . company. Not for sex. But not against it either."  


"That's it?"  


"That's all of it. I know you need time to think." Swallowing hard, he couldn't keep the damp distress from overtaking his face. "Are you going to leave . . . me?"  


Lisbon saw that Jane was beaten down by his confession. Nothing had really happened. But taking off his ring, yeah, that hurt. He still hadn't done it for her and this wouldn't change her decision not to pressure him about it. They'd never talked about it, actually, and she was content for it to be something she accepted about him for now. "No. Patrick I'm not leaving. Just going to take a shower. I do need to think. So, let me shower alone, okay?"  


He looked at her hands, nodded and let go. "Okay."  


Lisbon let the heat of the steaming water soak into her body. She tried to keep from thinking he'd removed the ring in order to have sex with Fischer. She knew Patrick and believed when he said he'd done it to force himself to move on. But there was no doubt in her mind that part of moving on could have been sex and he would have gone for it. His relief that it hadn't taken place told her that he hadn't been ready. At least he was ready for a full passionate relationship with her. They were in love so deeply that whatever he had had with someone else would be of little worth to him, and she would accord it the same worth.  


Jane was still sitting on the couch when she dried off, threw on a nightie and went to find him. Night had fallen and the room was dark. She took his hand and tugged him up, then led him to bed, undressed him and tucked him under the sheets. Flat on his back, staring at the ceiling with his hands together on his chest, a few tears rolled from the corner of his eye and into his hair. When Lisbon got in, she pulled him to face her, pressed his head to her breast and held him as tight as she could, as he wrapped an arm around her back and pulled her closer.  


In a little while, he started kissing her, murmuring love as he touched her like the sea, soft and insistent until she floated away with him. Everything he did told her of his love. He smelled and tasted like love. He felt like love. He sounded like love. And when he finally rolled into her, pressing in like ocean tides, his sighing voice was a soft breeze, the breath of unending waves, and he didn't stop until she was calling like sea birds.  


Resting in his arms, a hand splayed over his heart, his sated angel washed him with her sleeping breath. If he had believed in God, perhaps Patrick could have explained his blessed state. That such elevation was possible for human beings crushed him in wordless awe. It was Teresa, their synergy. It made them feel . . . holy.  


Excusing his meanderings as endorphin-fueled drivel, Patrick shifted his thoughts to Teresa. The change in her scent, her breath, the slightly elevated temperature inside her and the slight puffiness in her face told him that Lisbon would start her period early in the week, in the middle of their trip. She would be dismayed and fretful, but Jane loved this part of her cycle. She would let him comfort her with his most tender feelings. He coveted this time for making love with her, when she would let him. Although she was achy and easy to overwhelm, she was also the most sensitive and easy to bring to orgasm. It gave her relief. She said he was the only one who could, or even wanted to make love to her as she needed then, that he liked her the way he liked his steak, on the bloody side.  


He fell asleep smiling.  


Friday night, they packed the Airstream. Jane stowed some things after a last-minute run to the drugstore. When she looked at the little closet, filled with their clothing, Lisbon knew Patrick had been right to limit what they carried.  


By the time they had everything stowed, her excitement for their departure in the morning was peaking. She put on the Spice Girls and danced. Jane never laughed so hard, dancing around the living room with her and enjoying every minute of it.  


"Hey! You're a good dancer," she called to him over the volume.  


"It's the music! It inspires me!"  


They grinned at one another and danced through the last tune, sometimes close and sometimes covering the room to circle back to each other again, eventually draining an icy bottle of white.  


They showered together before bed. Patrick braced his back against the tiles bending his knees open for Lisbon's soaping massage of everything between his legs. Nudging him to turn, she rinsed him off quickly and continued with her soft, demanding mouth. At the end, hands pushing against the tile to maximize her leverage, she mouthed and sucked so vigorously that when he came his high-pitched yells bounced off the walls and hurt their ears.  


She licked and kissed him until he was completely spent. Then he hiked her up the shower wall, pinning her while her thighs hung over his shoulders and returned the favor, teasing her to the brink several times before he released her to groan and arch so powerfully that she nearly toppled them both.  


Teresa woke with the birds Saturday morning while Patrick still snuffled into his pillow. He rarely had trouble sleeping anymore, now often so deeply under that he could be difficult to wake on a workday.  


She nudged a leg between his and held his morning hard on as she slid easily until he was seated in her. He moaned in his sleep and reached a hand down as if to grasp himself. When he ran into her body instead, he grunted softly and traveled on to push on her ass and force himself deeper. She moaned and started moving. That woke him, though his eyes momentarily rolled up and he huffed loudly. His gaze was worshipful.  


"Morning wood," she said, panting a little. "You feel great!"  


Scissored between her legs, he filled her and she moved faster. The tightening of her muscles told him she was chasing a big one and taking him along with her. She sped up even more.  


"Patrick!"  


"I'm right there with you." The angle of her body made it easy to touch her, reaching one hand between her legs and the other to her breasts.  


"Pinch it! Please!" Her face was bright with passion, her eyes closed as she panted with exertion.  


She was so close. He didn't know where she wanted to be pinched and he didn't want to interrupt her with questions, so he pinched whatever was under his fingers.  


A hoarse cry erupted from her throat and her spasms wrapped him, pulling his cock deeper and drawing his release as he shot ecstatically into her. When she was past the tumult of her body, Patrick separated them and pulled her close, settling the sheet over them again.  


"I meant my nipple! Pinch my nipple."  


He tweaked it just to hear her squeak and smiled when she did, giving her a quick squeeze. "You need to be more specific in a moment like that. I thought it went rather well."  


Nuzzling his chest, she sighed. "It was spectacular."


	2. Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple 'E' scenes may seem unusual to some. Just so you know. They have a lot to explore in their new relationship.

They had time for a leisurely clean up and breakfast before hitting the road.  


"Rental car is confirmed and waiting for us to pick up when we get into Corpus," Jane said as he made his way to the bathroom.  


Lisbon followed him. "Will you do something for me, Patrick?"  


Jane eyed her with a suspicious smile that became anticipation when he saw the gleam in her eye. "Most likely."  


"Will you shave for me today? You can let it grow out again, but I love when your cheeks are baby-butt soft, and they haven't been for a long time."  


The look he gave her was sly and sexy, putting her on alert at once. There would be a sweet price for this.  


"On one condition." To build the suspense, he paused a few moments.  


Lisbon looked closely at his expression. Was that a leer? "Well? What is it?"  


"You have to shave for me!"  


"But I always shave my le-."  


"Not your legs."  


"My . . . my pu-, between my legs? Jane," she whined. "That will itch."  


Her impulse to a crude word stiffened him. So. She was no initiate to shaving there. "I'll soothe it. And my beard will itch growing back, too, just so you know."  


Lisbon smiled. She liked the feel of her bare lips on her fingers. She was going to love what Jane would do to them. "Okay. Deal."  


Jane got out his shaving things. Lathering, he watched her in the mirror and asked, "Who else have you shaved for?"  


"Patrick. You don't need to know that."  


"No names then. Who?"  


She started in neutral territory. "Well . . . it was all the rage for awhile. A lot of us did it." His look told her it wasn't enough. "Just a couple of guys. Mostly I did it for myself. It feels good."  


"Did they shave you?"  


"No! You think I'd trust some guy with a razor—there?"  


"You'll trust me to do it, huh?" He nodded at the bathtub as he started shaving his throat. "You can use the tub. It will save us time if we do it together."  


"I want to watch you shave. It won't take long. You can see everything. I can't."  


He was planning on watching her anyway, since it would take her longer. "Okay. Come on."  


Frowning a little, she couldn't keep from asking a fair turn-about question. "How many women have you shaved? A lot of women, I bet." She came nearer to watch his reaction in the mirror.  


His eyes clouded over a little and looked sad. "One, Teresa. One woman."  


"Oh. I'm sorry. I was just playing along."  


"I know. Everything's fine. Don't worry."  


It wasn't long until Teresa was draped across his back, fondling him through his boxers as he finished up. "Shaving looks so manly," she purred. Straddling his leg, she gently rubbed on him, her hands molding the round full cheeks of his bottom. It made Jane want to shove her against the wall and take her until she was screaming and breathless. She pinched the tip of his erection.  


The pinch sent fire to his balls just at the finishing stroke of his shave. He nicked his jaw. "Ow!"  


He didn't stop to see to the cut. Instead, jaw dribbling red and face edged with the remains of his shaving cream, he grabbed her, swinging her to the wall. She yelled in surprise, licked the blood from his jaw and stuffed her tongue along his, sharing the coppery taste. Pushing on the center of her chest to hold her up, he raked his pajama pants down and shoved into her, pounding until his climax, Lisbon angling her hips to take as much of him in as possible. She ended up with her feet gripping his hips, her legs splayed nearly flat to the wall.. Breathless and leaning on her, he recovered, his head resting on her shoulder..  


When he let took his hands away, he kissed her roughly, then smiled and gave her a softer kiss. "I owe you one. Now for your part of the bargain."  


Lisbon softly touched her mouth. She would remember that trigger! Smiling at Patrick, she got in the tub and let the water run, warming up and rinsing his juices from swollen lips. When she was soaped she called for the wastebasket, tapping small sudsy balls into it as she worked. Jane watched at she deftly denuded her delicate skin. When it came to the parts she couldn't see well, the tension showed on her face.  


"Here. I'll finish for you."  


Lisbon sat on the edge of the tub, each leg hiked in turn as Jane concentrated on shaving her without nicking her tender parts. He enjoyed just looking at her there. She caressed his soft cheeks as he worked—when she wasn't watching his graceful straight fingers probe her and hold her still-needy flesh just so as he scraped it bare. He wet a cloth, rinsed the soap away and dried her. Then he went in the medicine cabinet for a Vitamin E capsule, notching it to squeeze droplets to massage onto her naked, sensitized vulva.  


"You have a plump, pretty smile down here."  


"Thank you."  


Without thinking, her hips gave a proud little arch, making him smile and lick his lips.  


Touching his cheek again, she mused, "You'll have stubble again by tonight. I want to feel your cheeks and your tongue there. Now. We can be quick."  


"You're insatiable."  


"Only for you. You had me against the wall and made me want you."  


Living in intimacy as man and woman was a big deal for both of them. Especially when they had a week to enjoy alone together. Jane was well aware that theirs was the longest-term relationship Lisbon had ever had. She'd never lived with a lover. He grinned, realizing that she had not yet even hit her sexual stride, still testing the boundaries and her courage, learning what she wanted and how to please him. That she was helping him regain his stride, only added to the sweetness. "Bed."  


Velvet on velvet. All he had to do was lick her lips, hold her wide open and stroke her with his bare cheek, using it to nuzzle the firm nub in the top of her lips, relishing its slide across his sensitive skin.  


"Bring your hips up here so I can see you, too." Teresa loved how he was made and she rarely took time to simply look at his male flesh close up, as long as she wanted. Patrick would let her if she asked him, but either she had her hands and mouth on him or he would be inside her, driving her insane with what he could do with that cock. Between her legs now, he rolled his soft cheeks, lost in feeling her as much as improvising her pleasure. She was aroused almost beyond bearing. She put a caressing hand on his hair. "Slow down a little. I want to look at you."  


Leaving her enticing clit, he started licking her bare lips instead, sometimes scraping them with his teeth or sucking one into his mouth to savor on his tongue. Shapes and textures, surfaces so varied, she was delicious every way he tried her. The thought of her staring at his male business made his nipples hard and his scalp tingle. That he couldn't see her face as she looked only added to the sensuousness of her request. "Don't touch me, okay? I think you're going to make me come, just peeking."  


She gently parted his legs and watched the telescoping effect of his arousal. The skin around his balls held them tightly with pale pink crinkles. A beautiful line ran up the center. A small mat of golden hair adorned his pubis where his marvelous cock sprouted, the heavy head weighing it down even now as he grew erect. He looked like pink alabaster sculpture, classically carved. Parts of him reddened as his hard on lifted and then lay on his belly when he shifted his hips. He was thick and extended. Jane's hungry licking filled her with liquid heat as she felt the pull of her core to connect with her man by connecting her body with him. "Now!" she called quietly to Patrick.  


His tongue was in her, on her, then his lips sucking and muscular, pulling her clit. She felt his fingers part her sex, holding her open so that his mouth could reach the heart of her. She cried out as she felt the crest of orgasm crash into her like a wave at her back and her body curled into it. He kept lapping to prolong her pleasure until he was only softly licking as she lay in quiet recovery, moaning softly.  


Patrick's body thrilled, listening to her sounds of pleasure, taking in her clean scent and tasting her moisture. She had crossed her legs on his back when she came and pushed herself rhythmically on his mouth. He lay on his side, fingers caressing the satiny skin of her belly, watching it rise and fall with her breath. The half-moons of her thick dark lashes lay closed on her bright cheeks, her face still damp with heat, and hair coiling across the pillow. Her breasts still wore the tight nipples of her orgasm. She had abandoned herself to him and he loved her, worshipped her for the great gift.  


The drive to Corpus Christi was mostly uneventful. Stopping for a late lunch, they couldn't resist the convenience of their privacy. As soon as they had put up the things from their meal, Jane rushed his hands down the front of Lisbon's shorts and panties, rubbing her smooth lips, teasing her, until she was wet and ready, then pushing her clothes down. He took her on the table with his shorts at his ankles, hers hanging off one leg. His lust was high and he pounded into her, his flesh and hair petting her denuded sex. Then she arched, forcing her hips from the table's edge, squashing against him until he finished them both.  


Patrick stayed at the wheel since he knew how to maneuver the big RV. Lisbon chatted for a while. She was small enough to sit comfortably cross-legged in the large seat, peering out the panoramic windows, listening to jazzy old ballads on the radio. Sometimes they sang the romantic lyrics together. When Teresa quieted and started fidgeting in her seat, he suggested she use the controls to lower the back and take a nap, he had it covered for now.  


He loved watching her as she slept, her curling hair swept behind her on the seat back. He smiled as she slowly sank lower, her body seeking the comfort of having her knees bend in the right place at the edge of the seat. The legs of her shorts crept up as she sank and her pretty red top bunched below her breasts, showing her toned stomach. She was adorable to look at but probably not very comfortable, just sleepy enough not to notice. Next time he'd suggest she go to the back to get some rest.  


When Lisbon awoke, stretching like a cat she nearly fell to the floor. "Next time I'll take the couch!"  


"Do that! Or the bed."  


Yawning, she stretched her arms over her head and frowned a little. "No, I'd be too lonely without you there." Looking outside, she attempted to get her bearings. "Are we almost there?"  


Jane was still thinking about her loneliness to be in bed without him. He smiled with pleasure to know she felt as bonded as he did. "Oh! About ten miles out, I guess."  


Getting out her phone, she located the rental car company and their RV park close to the beaches. "How about fish tacos for supper? We can take it easy and eat in."  


"Mmmmm. Sounds good." He wiggled an eyebrow at her.  


"Stop," she laughed. "You're thinking of what happened at lunch when you jumped me on the table."  


"Yes, I am. Lucky we have our Silver Bucket, don't you think?"  


"All right. I admit I'm enjoying it." Her smile was warm and happy. She checked Yelp for fish tacos and found a shack not far from the campground. "They have homemade potato chips! I love those, don't you?"  


"Sounds perfect. We'll ice down some beer."  


"Limes! I love a slice of lime down the neck!"  


They ate before they hooked up the Airstream, sitting at the site's concrete picnic bench to crunch chips and savor the soft tacos, chased with icy beer. Jane had added a couple of shrimp tacos to the order, too. Homegrown Texas peaches from a roadside stand, small but aromatic, juicy and sweet, made desert. Near one end of the picnic table was a standing grill, also concrete. Maybe they'd do ribs and steaks. The park store would have charcoal.  


The RV park was near The Seawall, their site at the end of a row with a brake of oleander blooming pink, marking the end of the park. It was a nice view from the picnic table and the Airstream door. The seclusion was comforting and what they needed most. Shadows were long and the setting sun cast shimmering color over the ocean at the edge of their little landscape by the time they finished eating.  


While there was still light, Jane showed Lisbon how to hook up the water and electricity, turn on the propane, fasten the wide tube for sewer hook up and open the gray water valve. He pointed out how they were stowed and labeled. "When we leave, you can put it all back."  


She looked at him with doubtful eyes and a frown, not at all confident.  


"Don't look so grim, Lisbon. You can do it. And I'll check you to be sure. Okay?"  


A careful second look at the hook-ups and the labeling as she laid it in memory relaxed her. She could do it for sure. And Jane would check. He wouldn't let anything happen to them. The words in her head made her feel warm and satisfied. She was a part of a "them." Of course he didn't want to get hurt himself either. But it was more than that now. Anything that would hurt either one of them would hurt both of them. Jane would check to keep her safe but also to keep himself safe, knowing what his injury or loss would do to her.  


But even the cheery thoughts couldn't quell the knowledge that there would be certain things he would not tell her, also in order to keep her "safe." Keeping her in the dark would pre-empt her ability to keep him from harm and possibly put them both in danger. They'd had this argument ever since they'd worked together and it still wasn't resolved. Glowering now, she passed Jane. "I hope you'll do the same on the job, now."  


"Huh?"  


"Take good care of yourself. Because you know it takes care of me, too!"  


Jane cocked his head, a little confused. "I'll do that." He watched as she walked away. What the hell? "I still have to do my job, Lisbon," he called after her.  


"So do I," she said loudly to the air as she rounded the end of the RV.  


Lisbon had already started cleaning up from their meal when Jane came inside. Her somber expression told him everything. "Do you want to talk about it?"  


She said nothing, but when she finished clearing, she went out the door and sat in one of the lawn chairs they had brought.  


Jane sat in the chair next to her. "Look. I know what this is about."  


"Huh! You should!" She stared into the dusk.  


"Why do I feel I'm the only one talking and trying to resolve this, Teresa?"  


"I don't know. Why do you feel that way?"  


"Don't blow me off with smart ass comments!" His volume and tone were clearly pissed.  


"I'm sorry. You're right." She looked at her knees.  


"We've got to figure this out because it was the catalyst for the estrangement we both suffered those last long months."  


"I don't ever want that to happen again, Jane." She still didn't look at him.  


"I don't either." The evening air was warm and humid, typical Gulf weather this far south. He started to sweat. Lisbon looked cool as a cucumber. His jaw set as she maintained silence, gazing at the waves, now lit by the rising moon.  


"I promised never to run off again. Never! Never! Did you hear me?"  


"Yes. I heard you." She looked at him so that he would know she was sincere. "I'm glad, Jane. I believe you."  


"I may not be able to tell you where I'm going every minute. But you will never have to worry I've just run off again. And I will make sure you can reach me."  


Her face screwed into a brief pout. That was as good as she would get from him and she would have to live with it. "All right. I appreciate that."  


"And if something unexpected happens that makes it impossible for me to tell you where I am-."  


She looked sharply at him and folded her arms.  


"—Like if I get kidnapped or injured or something . . . "  


She looked into his eyes and nodded.  


"You will know that I'm desperately doing everything I can to get back into your arms."  


Lisbon sighed. "Secrets, Jane. Secrets. That's what this is really about. Not telling me things so that you can either control me or do what you want anyway."  


"No old business, okay? We need to leave our old beefs out of this."  


Lisbon bolted out of her chair to face Jane down. "This is not about old business, Patrick! This is about our business! And fine. We'll keep it to the future. But just remember. We got in the hell we lived because of old business. That's where all the fear and frustration come from, at least on my part. Experience!"  


"Stipulated."  


Lisbon sat back down.  


"There will be times when I will not be able to tell you everything."  


"No."  


"It would only be about a case."  


"No."  


"I would tell you the truth as soon as I could."  


"No! Stop it, Jane. Either you're going to tell me the truth or you won't. No in-between."  


"You know that in reality you're talking about no secrets at all. But I can't commit to that not knowing what might come up in a case. In actuality, it may never happen again because I intend to tell you every single thing. It's just that there may be a, a singularity . . . where I couldn't keep my word. So I don't want to give a blanket promise."  


"Well, that makes it easy for you. Again."  


"You think this is easy? I'm giving every inch I can, here. You're asking me to make rigid promises that are designed to make me fail."  


"It's not impossible! You can tell me everything! I'll keep your secrets. I just don't want you to trick me, manipulate me. It hurts, Jane. It's the most destructive thing you could do because it undermines trust! And you know I'll find out." Her eyes were emerald coals.  


"Of course I know that. Don't you see it's why I can't make the do-or-die promises you're asking? Promising would be a lie. Promising would be tricking you, manipulating you. Don't you think it would be easier and less frightening for me to go ahead and promise because it's what you want to hear, what will make you happy? That would be manipulating you. Controlling you. Think about it."  


Lisbon crossed her arms and said nothing, scraping the dirt with her feet.  


"I can't go beyond that. Maybe you'd be willing for it to remain at impasse . . . and I will do my best, every time, to tell you everything I can tell you . . . "  


"I guess that's the way it will have to be."  


"And if I make a mistake, you will tell me and I'll do my best to change, explain, apologize, whatever it calls for. But you have to forgive me."  


"You want me to forgive you ahead of time? Well, that makes it easy for you!" Her voice was loud and her face red, too. She flopped her folded arms against her bosom and pursed her lips to stop herself from going further.  


"Don't try to tell me you think this is easy for me! You're lying!"  


"Why wouldn't it be easy for you? You've done it a million times!"  


Jane stood up fast, eyes an ocean blaze. He opened the Airstream door and held it for her, gesturing with his free arm for her to enter. "Get in the house, please. I have something to say and it's going to be loud."  


Snorting, she stomped to the steps and went inside to face an angry Jane, his feet set wide and pointing a long finger at her.  


"You are on a high horse!" His voice was loud, and his color high. "We said no past beefs, Teresa."  


Now she turned to face him, leaning, arms straight out, her fists balled, yelling. "You want me to give in to everything you want!"  


"I've already given in to you, every inch I can. But I get to keep my nuts!"  


"What? This is about your manhood?" She threw an arm up in disbelief.  


"Personhood, Lisbon! It just so happens I'm a man. And, yes, my nuts are very personal, to me!"  


"Well I certainly don't mean to hurt you in your nuts!" Folding her arms again, she stomped her foot. "But I will not give in on this!"  


"You're not my boss anymore, Teresa Lisbon!" His eyes were ice and fire, staring her down, his lips drawn and tight.  


She gasped and stared daggers before her face drew into a soft sadness and tears began to roll down her cheeks. It was true. She couldn't just demand things of him and act like she would fire him if he didn't follow her orders. Ultimately, each one of them would have to decide what they would do, what they would accept. As separate people trying to be a couple, be one. The friction was the absolute commitment to be together. It chafed them both and didn't leave room for ultimatums. Not about this.  


"We're colleagues." Jane moved closer, wanting to take her into his arms, but also not wanting to get his nose punched. "You're my lover, Teresa," he said softly, "my, my . . . wife. I need to know that if I make a mistake or have to do something you don't like, that I will be trusted and forgiven. I need your love to go that far. If you can . . . "  


"Patrick . . . " She touched his chest, then toyed with one of his buttons.  


"I'm sorry." He tipped her chin up to look into her eyes but she looked away, still crying. "I'm sorry." He touched her cheek. "I'm sorry, sweetie. You can still get furious with me if you want. But you have to forgive me."  


She looked at him then, trying on the endearment that wanted to draw her close. It felt good. Her reddened eyes squinted with pain. "I can see how much you've changed, Patrick. How hard it was for you. How you did it for me. Don't think I don't know that."  


"Thank you." Holding her arms gently, he kissed her forehead.  


"Of course I love you that far. For you to know you will be forgiven. I wasn't trying to be unreasonable. It's just your secrets make me afraid. Afraid you'll get hurt or killed. Get me hurt or killed, and then I know you'd die. I don't want to face that."  


"No, of course not. I don't either. I'll do so good, you won't believe it, Teresa. Your trust in me won't be misplaced. I promise. I'll show you."  


"Okay. I'm sorry. I know you know how important it is to me. And I know you love me so much, you will always do your best. I know that, Patrick."  


"I love you, sweetheart."  


Closing the gap between them, Teresa laid her head against his chest and held onto him. "I love you, too, uh, baby."  


The rumbling hum in his chest told her that he liked her attempt at an endearment. He started to rock her a little. "You know what?"  


"Hmmmm?" His comforting warm scent surrounded her, filled her with familiar contentment.  


"We've had our first fight since we became a couple. The next sex we have will be our first make-up sex."  


"You say that like you don't expect to have any for a long time."  


"We-ell," he drawled, "this is kind of a big issue between us."  


"The biggest."  


"Maybe it's good we got it out of the way."  


"Probably."  


"Even if it means I don't get any Lisbon tail until next Christmas."  


She hugged him tighter. "You know I couldn't last that long." Fatigue slammed Lisbon. "I want a shower."  


"The hot water should be ready."  


"I'm too tired to stand up. You go first."  


"Okay, but you'll be asleep by the time I turn the water on. It's late. The park showers will probably be deserted. The walk will wake you up. We can shower together and be done in double time."  


"I'm too tired to walk down there."  


Dashing to the bathroom, he returned with their towels. "Well, I'm not too tired to carry you." He started to turn around. "Hop on. I'll ride you piggy-back."  


"Ja-ane! I can't do that!"  


"Why not?"  


"I'm too heavy!"  


Jane made a rude noise with his lips. "Oh, please." He turned his head to look at her. "You carry the towels. I'll take the soap and shampoo in my pockets."  


"Okay. I can see you are a man with a plan. Let me up." She giggled as he bent and gripped her arm to help her swing on. "You just want to be a caveman, you ass!"  


"Your caveman, Lisbon! Duck your head and close the door behind us." She screamed as he lumbered down the steps and turned to lock up. Then he grunted and feigned a lop-sided lope all the way to the showers, not far.  


He tried to let her down at the door. "I take it back. You're heavy. Must be all that muscle. Okay, climb down."  


Instead, she swung around to his chest, clinging like a monkey and gave him a slobbering kiss.  


"Unh unh!" he grunted.  


"My hero," she said and laughed with her head thrown back.  


"Seriously, Lisbon. Get down. I'm too old for these beach bum surfer shenanigans."  


"What happened to my caveman?" she said as she dropped to the ground. Now awake and reinvigorated, she grinned at the fun Jane had made for them.  


"I have a feeling he'll make a reappearance in the shower." He squeezed her bottom, his long fingers able to goose her at the same time.  


"Ah! Get in here, Jane." She held the door open.  


The stalls were roomy, with good doors and sturdy built-in benches. No one else was there and they took the last stall, telling themselves it would be more 'private.'  


Jane undressed first, spread a towel on the bench, sat down and waited for Lisbon to finish. He grew hard as he watched her bend to remove her panties, her luscious bottom tucking into a heart shape at her legs. His primal lust focused on the dark juncture of curves leading to her sex. Grabbing her waist, he pulled her to his lap, guiding himself into the nest of curves and thrusting in. She wasn't ready, but he held her there and let his hands rove her breasts and dip into her vulva as he kissed her back and shoulders, writhing deeper into her. Heat ripened in Lisbon, Placing her hand between her legs, she rode him only a short time before orgasm shook her. She rested against him until her breath recovered, then separated as he groaned in protest, unfulfilled.  


She didn't look back, but got in the shower to regulate the water. Holding the curtain, she held out her hand and drew him in. In a few minutes he was lathered and warm, his male flesh at only half-mast. Lisbon suddenly flipped him forcefully to face the wall and held him between the shoulder blades. She tapped his legs apart like a perp and used her foot to tug his ankles back, forcing him to lean on the wall for balance. Soaping the firm rounds of his ass, she reached through to his suddenly alert cock, drawing it down to let her hand skate him, squeezing and twirling her palm around the head. The feel of smooth, hard flesh as she traveled its ridges and valleys, the rising veins and the features of the fleshy head, centered an amazing feeling in her clit. It was powerful and aggressive. Whenever he tried to turn or move, she shoved him firmly against the wall again until he got her intent that he submit.  


When Patrick was obedient and moaning, she added her other hand, working a soapy finger carefully into his ass. Now she had him front and back. Her power to raise his responses aroused her and she rubbed the naked lips of her sex hard against his leg. She put another finger in, careful to pull him open enough wherever she caressed him inside so that she would not nick him with a fingernail. His cock was rigid in her hand when she felt him seize and offer a long wavering cry as he sent stream after stream zipping to his feet. When she took her hand away, she put a couple fingers on her clit, now swollen and standing as she'd never felt it before, and continued rubbing on his leg until she came, falling against him to cling to his waist.  


Jane said very little in the short time before they crawled into bed that night. Indeed, he thought very little. He felt a bit zen. Relaxed, clean and cool under the low buzz of the air conditioning, they snuggled together, Lisbon spooned into him.  


He kissed her shoulder and ear, lingering at each before he spoke. "I adore you."  


She squeezed his hand and let the silence lull them both to sleep.


	3. Sunday

He was riding a cushion of air and light as he surfaced slowly from the night, like a diver at periods of rest floating up from the deep in stages, who must adjust to the pressure changes or die. But there was no death here. There was whispering and birds and something thrumming far away as if the air and light were a living thing. He listened for the whispers, soft and sweet, and telling him things he couldn't understand but knew he liked. They touched him like silk, trailing his length in ribbons, rustling in the whispers. He felt cooler, refreshed, aired out and plumped like a pillow. Filled with bliss. A wand of warmth passed along his body, leaving cooling trails as it traveled.  


When she opened her eyes in the light of dawn, she had been dreaming of him. Birds were calling and the ocean's huge heartbeat filled the distance, sneaking in with the moon, and now slipping back to the line where it met the sky, maybe to spend the day talking to whales. The ocean could follow its pleasure. Right now she looked at the man from her dreams, pink and gold, not yet knowing he was loved because he slept. As soon as he awoke he would know and his smile would be for her.  


Teresa loved to watch Patrick waking up. His skin was cream in its rest, tinged with pink and so beautiful on his sleek form. Hair flat over his ears and the back of his head where he'd slept, on top it was free and rioting, the golden curls glinting in the growing light. She loved to touch him awake. She pulled the sheet quietly from his body. Pushing down stealthily on his pillow, she tucked fingers under his cheek, keeping them secret but letting herself thumb the bone, once. She was feathers. She was silk and she used her other hand like Mesmer, floating over his arm and then everywhere when she saw she could do it, so close the hair stood for her, and she whispered. Not to be heard, only to say. She told him of the great love she bore for him through time, how it had started, how it had grown, what it was now and what she dreamed it would be. The whole story floated in tender whispers. He smiled in his sleep.  


She watched him stiffen, twitching as he grew. Still her hands floated over his skin, now to his chest where his nipples raised and his breath hitched. Her fingers landed gently, skimming his belly, gliding underneath his risen cock to revel in the course golden hair at the base. They closed where he was hard satin and stroked his length with fingers like silk ribbons over and over, her hands a warm channel for him. She kissed him, balmy and wet, rolling her tongue on his firm flesh. There was contentment in his sigh, and when she looked to his face, his eyes were opening. He gazed deeply, smiling, and caressed her shoulder, his warm hand traveling up her neck to cup her cheek and then releasing her to their pleasure.  


There was no better way to wake up than with Teresa's mouth on him. It rarely happened in the rush of their lives. This morning he was her instrument and she would play him until she was satisfied, taking him with her. He felt somehow claimed, owned, hers. Home. His graceful hands skimmed her arms and he tucked over her to reach what he longed to touch, capturing her breasts to hold them, fan his fingers over the nipples as they hardened. He skated her firm belly, its skin creamy and soft, then around to her hips, anchoring his hands to toy with that tender triangle of flesh that made her wanton.  


"Aaahhhn!" His touch went straight into her core, lighting some primal pathway that had only one object. It was deep, effervescent and she imagined what could only be her ovaries unfurling, shivering until they ignited like sparklers. Her hips curled to him; she had to have him. Now! Looking into his sunlit eyes, she could not keep the begging want from hers.  


The way she looked at him, eyes dark even in the sunlight, broke him, taking his breath until he could barely croak her name. "Teresa!" Reaching under her arms, he lifted her, rolling to his back, watching hungrily as her breasts flowed forward. Her smile was joy and gratitude and dark need.  


When she bent to kiss him, she crushed his lips and raked his mouth open with her tongue. "Put your hands on me again, Patrick. You drive me out of my mind."  


He fingered the plush triangle, rubbing little circles with his fingertips until he thought she would cry or scream, and he kept rubbing, scraping his nail tips.  


She moaned because it was an effort to do anything else when her hips controlled her whole body. He held himself up for her, impossibly long and hard, the tip already wet. He was a meaty spear and he gently pulled her open to slowly impale herself until she sat on the hilt. When she started moving, pressing hard and circling her hips, he pushed up so that everything he had could feel her, even his balls as they tried to tuck themselves into the cleft of her ass.  


"Oh, please, I'm going to come, Teresa." His voice was a hoarse musical sigh, deep and constant, riding the rising arcs of pleasure, awaiting the moment he would wash into her.  


She bent, placing the heels of her hand on his hip bones, and lifted just enough to circle her excited flesh around his, then curled her back and started gliding him up and down, her voice now matching his, even her nipples catching fire. Throwing his head back, he shoved into her and came, his body arcing. She slammed him to the bottom of her core twice and her muscles closed on him, convulsing as she arched and undulated, feeling every inch of him. When she finished, she laid on his chest under the arm he threw over her, listening to his heart pound as he brushed the side of her breast with his free hand.  


"You're a body poet or something."  


His endorphin-filled delirium pleased her. "Your body is a poem."  


They prepared for a lazy day and went to the beach. The sea was perfect, cool and refreshing, sparkling in the sun as its foamy edges raced to shore. Jane brought Lisbon to the first sand bar and taught her body surfing. So appealing in her tiny pink bikini with ties everywhere, he loved to watch her pink-clad butt clench under the triangle of cloth that didn't quite cover it as she maneuvered the waves on her ride to shore. He coaxed her to the second sandbar, kicking her feet extra hard because she had only one arm to swim with, the other anchored by her hand in the waist of his suit, trusting even through her fear that he would see her safely there. Lisbon beamed like a lighthouse when she stood on that bar.  


Later, they lay on the sand, basking in a sun that turned their bones to butter. When Lisbon flipped onto her back, Jane was on his side watching her. Her suit bottom gapped and if he angled his head just right, he could see the shadow of her plump labia. He huffed and stayed the finger that wanted to pet that shadow, concentrating instead on the generous view of her breasts swelling by design from the small triangles of cloth tied loosely over them.  


Lisbon opened her eyes a slit and saw what he was up to. "Don't think I can't see that boner you're growing. You try anything on this public beach and those pretty fingers will be hurting." She closed her eyes with a smug smile.  


"I bet I can make you come without attracting any attention. Unless you bring it by flailing, screaming my name and calling to the sky."  


She chuckled at his boasting words. "We'll never know. But then what would you do with that hard on?"  


"You have to go into the hut sometime. You'll want me by then."  


"Oooohhhhh. Patience as a strategy. That will definitely work."  


"So, I can make you come? Here?"  


"Not if you want the use of your fingers." Something in her tried to relent. "You win on the curiosity factor. Although, I suppose all you have to do is find a way to hide your hand as you put the squish on me."  


"Bingo!" He laughed out loud at the apt description of "the squish" he would put on her. "Now that you know my simple secret . . . "  


"No. But if you keep it up, we're getting off this beach and we'll be lucky if we make it past the picnic table at home."  


"I'll wait. But let's not forget your picnic table idea. Right now, how about we go for a walk on the beach?"  


"Can we eat lunch first? I'm hungry."  


Lunch was packed from "home," sandwiches and fruit. With it they poured white wine over ice and Perrier, savoring the refreshing fizz.  


Slathering one another with sunblock, they walked the shore, dashing into the water whenever they grew too hot. When they got back, they made out on their towels and then went for a last swim. Jane made a show of the hard on straining his baggy shorts in the water, describing in detail what it was going to do inside her when they got home. Lisbon was a little put out with his ribald teasing because it made her want to take him in the waves.  


As they came out of the water, she looked at him with teasing eyes. "Do you know nearly our whole focus is on sex right now?"  


"It's about time! That's why we needed this get-away."  


"You've been married, so I guess you know. It's a bit strange for me, like I'm going overboard. I don't want to put you off."  


Stopping her, he touched her face, gazing into her unsure eyes, and pushed the hair from her cheek as the breeze blew around them. "Hey. This is what we're supposed to do. How you move me, Teresa! What a joy it is to be with you as we develop the sexuality that will bind us for life . . . I can't tell you, you can't imagine how much I love you, enjoy who you are and what you're willing to build with me. I adore you from a place that has no words. It's filled with trust . . . and courage . . . and joy . . . and just bare naked you. Your personality, I mean now. You make no barrier between us, create an open path that it honors me to even be allowed to walk." He had to stop as his gravelly voice broke.  


Teresa jumped into his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, squeezing him, making him rock with her as she moved. "Oh, Patrick . . ."  


"We're companions, bonded together in a special relationship where sex is as strong a glue as simply being together or talking and laughing, looking out for each other or taking care of the minutia of life. It's part of the whole thing, and you make it so beautiful, Teresa. You make us communicate on every level."  


Laughing and crying at his neck, she kissed him everywhere she could reach. "Thank you. Thank you. I love you so much. I'm glad I'm not doing it wrong."  


"You couldn't. Everything about you is right." He kissed her on the lips. "Am I doing it wrong?"  


"Oh, god, no, Patrick. Don't even wonder about such a thing. Everything about you is right, everything about us. I couldn't be happier."  


"Will you be my wife? I mean, marry me for real?" His eyes met hers in the quiet space between them.  


"Oh, yes! You're my husband already, and I'd love to marry you for real!" Laughing, she cradled his head and leaned back as they looked at each other in wonder. "You are such a powerful man, Patrick. It's like you have the sun in your chest, blazing. I need your burning heart, loving me and calling what's deep in me to the surface, to yourself so that we are truly together."  


When they left the beach hand in hand, evening had long crept onto the sand and still they had lingered. They watched the sun set over the Gulf, arms wrapped around one another, tender kisses falling at whim on cheek, ear, temple and lips. A bright sliver of moon rose, making a pearly path on the water.  


Jane stirred. "Let me hit the can and we'll get the rental and go home."  


"I'll wait here."  


"All right, my Miss Basketball Bladder."  


Lisbon crinkled her nose and smiled. "It's those long stakeouts and SWAT operations. I've had training. Go put your can on the can, Jane." She laughed at the word, so funny falling from his lips. Jane had a wide range of language, from gutter crass to elegant posh. Every day he amazed her, at least a little bit.  


"I'm not sitting in a public latrine! I just need to take a leak."  


Lisbon swallowed another giggle and choked a little, covering it with a cough.  


"I don't want to leave you here alone. Come with me."  


"You'll only be a minute. Let me stay here and watch the ocean."  


Reluctantly, Jane hurried off. He never made it inside. Hand out to pull the door open, next thing he knew, he was on the ground with the breath knocked out of him, taking punches. The world was raining sand as his assailant used it as an effective deterrent to action by his victim.  


"Gimme your wallet, man, and anything else valuable you got!"  


"I don't have anything! Nothing! You picked the wrong guy!" He tried to spit the sand out, but it just kept pouring into his mouth and eyes.  


"Son of a bitch! You're lying!"  


Jane managed to pull his empty pockets out.  


"You shit! You fucking waste of time!"  


A booted toe landed on his mouth and he tasted hot blood. The guy sounded youngish and he was pissed for expending risk and energy with no payoff. The sand turned into a storm worthy of the Gobi desert. It went up Jane's baggy shorts as his legs flailed, trying to kick the guy away. He never connected. It blasted into his nose and mouth, clotting the blood. In no time, even his curls were weighed down by sand. The boot started on his ass.  


"Lis-BON! Help! Lis-BON!" he screamed, over and over. He heard her footsteps before he finally saw her bare legs. Their muscles flexed as she hollered that she was FBI and to hit the ground. That was right before she helped the guy flat on his stomach and whipped his arms behind his back for a quick zip-tie.  


Jane sat up, trying to clean sand from every orifice in his head. He was sure he was packing it into his ears instead of getting it out, and finally just shook his head like a dog. He watched Teresa tighten the zip-tie a little more, until the guy yelled. Her face was twisted with rage. A small rush of love poured through Jane as he witnessed her utter protectiveness and her fury that the man on the ground had hurt him on her watch.  


"I'm sorry, Jane. I should have come with you like you asked."  


"Sucker-punched me."  


"Your man's a pussy, bitch!"  


"Shut-up, scumbag! You don't know shit." She gave his thigh a good kick. It landed hard, even with her bare foot.  


Jane smiled and shook his head. Cop knowledge.  


"Officer! Officer!" Lisbon waved her arm and caught the attention of a cop rolling by, checking things out in his patrol car, window down. He pulled up and hurried to them.  


Lisbon showed her badge. "FBI. This man attacked my husband."  


The officer took their information. "What did he get?"  


"Nothing. My wife has everything in her purse. He didn't get anything. That's why he got so mad he attacked me. I don't know much about fighting. When Teresa came up, she got him off me and under control for you."  


Noting the wedding ring on Jane's hand and Lisbon's bare fingers, the cop cocked his head. "You two said you are married?"  


"Yes." Jane really didn't feel the guy needed an explanation. The look on Lisbon's frowning pink face said the same.  


"Common law?"  


They both nodded. Lisbon said, "Yes," not looking at the man.  


"All right, Mr. and Mrs.—"  


Lisbon cut him off. "We didn't change our names, Officer. They're as you see on our identification."  


"Yes, ma'am." The officer jerked the thug to his feet and turned to Jane and Lisbon. "They'll take your complete statements at the precinct." He handed them a copy of his incident report and his card. Mr. Jane here needs some medical attention. Let me call an ambulance."  


Lisbon looked at Jane, knowing he would not go. But the expression in her eyes told him he needed to tell the truth about his condition. "I'm bruised and my lip is bloody, Officer, but it's nothing serious. Teresa and I can assess it at home after I clean up and get rid of all this sand."  


"All right, then. And I hope you enjoy the rest of your stay in Corpus Christi."  


"Thank you, Officer," said Lisbon.  


He tipped his hat and hauled the thug to his patrol car.  


Jane's lip was split and bloody and there was swelling over his cheekbone. Bending to look in his mouth, Lisbon put a hand on his shoulder to keep him sitting. She pulled his lip as gently as possible, examining his teeth. Nothing broken or missing. "Anything feel loose in there?"  


Jane moved his tongue around, pushing, then used a finger to push on his teeth. "No, everything seems good." His finger had blood on it when he pulled it out and Lisbon looked at him skeptically. "That's just from my lip. Tongue's okay." He stuck it out for her to examine.  


Blood streaked the side where his lip was torn but she could see no cuts. "Okay." Lisbon helped him up and tried to lead him away.  


"I still have to pee, Teresa." He held himself.  


She made a clucking noise and tipped her chin at the bathroom doorway. "Hurry up. I need to tend your face."  


When Jane looked at her before going in, a bikini-clad Lisbon was in her cop stance, guarding him, her purse open at her feet and zip-ties still spilling out. A man stepped up and she flashed her badge. "It'll be a minute, sir. I've got someone in custody, using the facilities." The man looked frightened and walked away. Jane smiled, warm inside from the love he felt for her, and went in to relieve himself at last.  


As he stood at the urinal, sore, miserable and sweaty, he gingerly touched his busted lip and winced. Sweat trickled down his back and chest, the sides of his face, tickling wet trails from his armpits in the stifling bathroom. Sand was in every crevice and opening of his body, chafing him, making him itchy. It would take days to get it all out. In the meantime it would abrade his skin.  


Glancing at him every few seconds on the drive back to the Airstream, Lisbon couldn't wait to get him home and clean him up, assess his injuries.  


"I'm okay, Teresa. Really. I just need a shower and rest."  


She reached for his hand, taking care to avoid the sand-scratched knuckles. "Don't worry, Jane. You have me, now. I'll help take care of you."  


Her tone was soft and caring. It wasn't the cop taking charge now. It was the woman who loved him. "Thank you, sweetheart." Somehow her name was not enough to convey the tender feeling she gave him. He closed his eyes and slipped into a light doze.  


Jane was stiff and limping a bit when he got out of the car, but made it inside to sprawl on the couch.  


Lisbon stowed her things, letting Jane rest for a few minutes, then brought extra towels and laid them across the bed.  


"C'mon, Jane. Let's get you ready for a nice hot shower before you stiffen up too much. Here. Take these." She handed him a couple ibuprofen and a small glass of water.  


When he had swallowed everything down she led him, stiff and groaning, to the kitchen floor and after brushing him down, knelt to pull his shorts off. Sand showered the vinyl flooring. When his penis bounced out, it flipped more sand into her face and she couldn't help but laugh. After raising three younger brothers, she should've seen that coming! Nudging him to widen his stance, her small fingers made it easy to manipulate his soft flesh, dislodging all the grit she could. He stiffened a little and jutted his hips.  


"That feels nice. Clean me up good, Teresa." Jane tried to smile, but the pain as his congealing lip threatened to open again took the smile away.  


Lisbon giggled. "Stop, Jane. You want all this sand down the Airstream drain instead? Turn around. I have to do the same thing with your butt."  


Painfully, he turned as she asked.  


"Oh! You're really bruised back here." It was high on the meat of his backside. She was glad it was not over a bone or he'd need x-rays. "That's going to be painful. I hope the ibuprofen helps. If it's not enough, we'll give you some aspirin in a couple of hours. Now, stand still and I'll be as gentle as I can." She brushed sand from the surface, then carefully parted his cheeks and gently worked her fingertips to clean the often unexpected places where the sand had accumulated. Poor guy, it must be like having sand paper jammed in there. His delicate skin was chafed and red already. Then she lifted each cheek and feathered the sand out of the creases at his legs.  


Stepping to face him again, she was surprised to see him at half-mast. "Really, Jane? Now? Can you bend over a little bit? I'm going to shake what I can from your hair."  


He complied with a little groan. "I like when you played back there. It reminded me of last night." He peeked up at her from his bent position. "That was great make-up sex, Teresa. Indelible. I like how it continued our conversation."  


"Me, too." Bending below him, she managed enough balance for a kiss. They both snickered. "But for heaven's sake. I wasn't playing just now. I'm cleaning you up." She looked at him and smiled slyly. "I'll remember that. But maybe next time we have make-up sex, it will be tender and sweet."  


"I think we did great."  


Her eyes sparkled when she winked at him and then she straightened up. "Now let me shake the sand from your hair." A phenomenal amount of sand tumbled out as she shook her hands through his curls. "Okay, get a shower and make it as hot as you can stand it. Wash as much sand out as possible. And wash your hair twice. There will still be sand, but not too bad. I'll check you and get the rest when you get out."  


Lisbon swept up three dustpans of sand while he showered. After about fifteen minutes of groaning, grunting and sharp calls of pain, Jane came out looking exhausted.  


"Lie on the bed. I'll clean the rest off for you."  


"Lost my range of motion. It hurts to move." He crawled onto the bed, grunting, and flopped to his back.  


By the time she had washed and put a soothing lotion on all his tender parts, apologizing for the discomfort when cleaning the most sand-chafed creases, Jane was fully erect.  


"I love how you touch me, Teresa." He pulled her to sit on top of him.  


Squeezing her hips and centering her on top of his cock, he let his fingers wander under the tee shirt she had thrown on over her swimsuit, and smiled as her stomach rippled under his touch. He caressed her ribs and brushed his knuckles softly on the undersides of her bikini top, stuffed full of her beautiful flesh, then lifted their loose covering, exposing her tender, sensitive breasts. Caressing them with his palms, squeezing them sensuously with his fingers, Jane added his thumb to raise and tweak the nipples.  


Lisbon was already excited. Handling her lover, caring for him and watching his responses to the sensual nature of tending his body heated her blood. Now, his knowing hands on her breasts and skin lit desire low in her belly. She managed to get one side of her bikini bottom loose before Jane's hand was between her legs, wetting his fingers. He slipped one in and lodged his thumb on her clit, giving it a gentle circular massage as he wiggled inside, then tucked in another finger. She let the suit drop from her leg to the floor.  


When he removed his fingers, she was flesh to flesh with his hard cock, spreading wet as she rolled her hips over him, making them both gasp, breathless and pressed for air. She yanked her shirt off and pulled the ties loose on her top, letting it drop. Patrick jutted his hips. His wriggling forced her further apart and he heated them both as he rubbed his length on her.  


"Don't," she breathed, her eyes closed as she rolled their flesh in lazy rhythm. "Let me do the work. Don't move too much."  


Jane stilled her hips with his strong hands. "Put me inside of you."  


Holding him up, she raised her hips and sat down carefully, moving to seat him deep inside. He gripped her hips with some force, pulling her tight to his body and helping her to move the way he needed her. Lisbon gasped and called his name in a harsh whisper as her muscles clamped around him, letting her feel his entire length and breadth inside. Her movements quickened until she came, quaking around him, the muscles at the juncture of her thighs shivering in the light, stretched open where they were joined. Jane moved through her orgasm, her pulsing muscles hastening his climax as he gave a deep sigh, filling her until he felt his own warm juices pump softly out of her still throbbing sheath onto his skin. He closed his eyes and drifted away.  


Lisbon got up carefully, cleaning the juices of their lovemaking while he slept. She made an ice pack, gently coaxed him to his stomach without waking him and set it on the bruise that was forming at the top of a fanny cheek. Kissing the other one, she went for her own shower, removed his ice pack, slipped in beside him and fell quickly asleep. When he awoke in the night for the bathroom, moving stiffly and moaning the soreness, she gave him aspirin and cuddled him as he made satisfied sounds and drifted into oblivion.


	4. Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's vibrator play in this chapter. Just a warning for those who want to avoid it.

When he awoke the next morning, sore and unwilling to move, Jane squinted at Lisbon and grunted. "I think you wrecked me."  


"Come here." Her arms reached for him, but it was she who had to move to embrace him with comforting words.  


Her nipples pointed. Jane carefully slid a hand to the bottom edge of the short tank shirt Lisbon had put on in the night. Her breasts had rubbed him under the fabric as she hugged and he wanted to see them, never tired of them, wanted to touch. Sliding the hem up her warm belly, his breath quickened as he imagined them slowly uncovered and followed the reality with his eyes. He'd lusted after them while he began to wake up to his love for Teresa and, when she had moved to the FBI with him, had created, every opportunity he could to dress them, for his eyes. It was an act of love as well as desire, trying to show her his ardent feelings during the time when she would not let him speak. And now he could touch them, look at them whenever and for however long he wished.  


Gently cupping the round flesh in his large hand, he kissed it. "So round. So perfect for my hand. So large for your tiny frame, Lisbon. I love these. They make me lose my mind. They shocked me the first time I saw them. Did I tell you?"  


"No." She loved the way he touched her when he was in this mood, cupping her breasts in his roving hands, kissing them, pressing them with his long agile fingers, talking about how they felt to him, what he saw. She felt beautiful, adored. Now his touch inflamed her. He described the bloom of his romantic love and the burning lust that came with it, how he'd longed to express it and could not find a way because he was too frightened to draw her that close, afraid he would drive her away, unsure what either of them wanted.  


"I'm sorry you suffered, Patrick. I was longing for you, too. We were such fools." He'd started nuzzling her by then, kissing and licking the flesh that so excited him. Her body surged with desire. "Stop, now. I'll want you to make love to me, already do. And you need to rest."  


"I'll rest after." He tried to roll to his side, press himself to her. When he moved, his whole body protested and he never made it off his back, grunting loudly in surprised pain.  
She snorted. "I think we need to get you limbered up first!"  


Helping him out of bed to get his clothes on and then easing him into the car, they hit a drive-thru for coffee. While they awaited the hot brew, Lisbon used her phone to find a spa and grabbed an opening for a hot soak, a steam and a gentle oily massage. It relaxed them both and put him well on the way to recovery. The swelling was gone from Jane's cheek, leaving a pale bruise just under the bone. However the bruising at the top of his buttock was dark and painful to look at. His cut lip throbbed, warning him not to smile or open his mouth too much. Eating was tricky and anything salty burned. He carried an extra handkerchief to blot the blood after these inevitabilities.  


After the spa, they went to the police precinct office and gave their statements. They took pictures of Jane's injuries for evidence and Lisbon added what she had documented the night before. The duty officer left to add Lisbon's photos to evidence, complete the paperwork and make any needed copies for the hard file.  


Jane waited until he was out of hearing. "You took a picture of my entire ass?"  


Lisbon smirked. "It's good to show the difference between the uninjured cheek and the bruised one. A shot of just a bruise doesn't show how the skin started." She could tell Jane was waiting for a little assurance. "Don't worry. I'm not going to show it around." Kissing his cheek, she wiggled an eyebrow. "But I might look at it sometimes on a lonely night when you're not around."  


"And why wouldn't I be around?"  


"Maybe we're separated on cases, like we know can happen. This will keep me warm at night." Looking slyly at him, she added, "But the bruise does make me sad. Maybe I'll take a better one when you're healed up."  


"Oooohhhhh," he breathed. "So, I suppose I have the same privileges. In case I get lonely, that is."  


She stuck out her bottom lip, pretending to consider. "I suppose it's only fair."  


"Does it include videos?"  


She gave him a coy smile. "Maybe."  


"I know what I want to see on my lonely nights. Maybe we can do something live . . ."  


The color in her cheeks was high now. "Phone sex? On video chat?" At first, she looked a little shocked, imagining herself doing such a thing." He was her husband. They could do what they wanted. A frisson of the furtiveness of it ran through her. When she looked at him, the heat in her eyes was unmistakeable. "Maybe."  


He nodded knowingly at her. "I think you mean yes. We're buying iPads as soon as we get back home. Before the FBI has a chance to send us off. We'll make a night of it, stuffing them full of photos and videos."  


"You make it sound like an orgy." She giggled, blushing hard.  


"Well," he shrugged. "We won't invite anybody else. Too distracting. And boring. I like to concentrate on you."  


"Me, too." She seemed a little dazed by imagination but snapped out of it. "I mean, for you."  


Pleasure. It pleased him to see her shy discomposure, swiftly overcome by her desire for him and to try something new, fun.  


The officer returned with their copies of the paperwork. The thug's court-appointed lawyer wanted a plea deal. Jane agreed. He didn't want to bother with a special return trip just to testify.  


Before sitting in the car again, Lisbon reached under the seat to pull out a compact holstered gun. Jane had never seen anything quite like it. The belt was far too small, even for her little waist. He watched with rising interest as she hiked up her yellow sundress, wrapped the belt and cinched it snugly high on her firm, sleek thigh. When she let go, the swingy knit covered it all with a swirl of the short hem. Checking the gun to be sure it was seated and secure in the holster, the safety on, she gave it a slap and sat down. Jane was staring at her and his eye had a hot gleam.  


"What? I have a license for concealed carry. My ID is tucked into the holster and my official badge is in my purse."  


Closing his mouth, Jane murmured, "Oh, nothing," and cleared his throat a few times. Then, he slid a hand under her dress and ran his fingers down between her legs. "That was a pretty hot conversation we had in there."  


She widened her legs a little bit, breathing hard and turning pink.  


"It was all I could do to keep from springing a hard one out of my pants." She was sloshing wet. Giving her clit a quick swipe that made her jump and gasp, he removed his hand, looked into her dilated eyes and, sniffing his fingers under droopy-lidded eyes, he stuck them in his mouth and sucked. "Mmmmmm. Teresa. The woman I love."  


She groaned and put her legs back together. "You're lucky I don't pull you out of your shorts, right now, and ride you with the steering wheel at my back, you big tease. We're in a police precinct parking lot."  


"Another location, maybe?"  


"Let's go to the ocean."  


From then on, whenever she could, Lisbon wore her gun, especially at night when they went out. It titillated Jane to distraction when she wore a dress, knowing her gun lay just under it in her thigh holster. When she drove, he pushed up her dress to lay his hand on the holster and play with the stark textural differences between the leather and her silky skin.  


They spent the afternoon at The Seawall, snorkeling. The Gulf was not prized for its reefs. It was just fun and allowed Jane to do something active in the water without straining his bruised hip. Although the salt water initially bothered his cut lip a lot, after a while it seemed to actually help it heal. The gentle exercise in the weightlessness of the sea went a long way towards dissipating the soreness in his hip. It was relaxing to float in the shallows and look at the otherwise unknown activity at the sea bottom and the fish that wandered into view. Lisbon found some shells. Jane floated underneath her and pulled his shorts down. She bared a breast for him, then swam away when he reached for it.  


Later, in water a bit deeper, her entire pelvic carriage sizzling from Jane's teasing, Teresa reached into his suit and worked him into a massive erection. She sat at his waist below the waterline and allowed him to slip his long fingers under her top to fondle her. When her tightly wound nipples were practically vibrating and she could take no more, she untied the strings of her bottoms and draped the bit of cloth through a top tie. Jane watched for the waves and they braced each other when a big one came along. When he seated her, he held her plush bottom in his hands and they made love slowly in the water under the bright sun until they were satisfied. Patrick watched her come, the sparkling water a backdrop as she arched in his extended arms, as if they were dancers in a ballet. They stood basking for several minutes, joined and throbbing hot in the cool water. Teresa lay against Patrick's chest, her hands wrapping his neck as he smelled the sea in her hair.  


As they were packing up to leave, Jane said, "Let's get some fresh shrimp for tonight."  


"Sounds good. You know a restaurant?"  


"I mean really fresh. Right off the boat. At the Marina. Bound to be some shrimp boats coming in."  


"I've never done that. Let's go!"  


They parked and walked along the Marina until they spotted a shrimper that had just docked. Jane took her by the hand and led her alongside the boat where the crew was just setting out the catch, bags, a scale and a tub of ice for packing on the same table.  


"Ah! Fantastic! Let's get some of the biggest ones!" Jane rubbed his hands together and went to barter with the skipper while Lisbon looked at the pearly shrimp.  


She cocked her head, a squeamish look on her face. It was barely there. Were her eyes tricking her? "Patrick!" She gripped the edge of the table as she felt the blood start to drain from her head.  


When he turned and saw her pale face and half-lidded eyes, he reached over, embracing her as she started to sway. "Are those shrimp . . . are they movi-?" Slumping in his arms, she fainted.  


Oh, crap! Just like the maggots that time! He dragged her a little away from the wet under the table where ice melted and shrimp dripped the sea. He used the hem of her shirt to billow some air across her skin. Finally, she moved and moaned, opening her eyes.  


"You're all right, Teresa. Just a little fainting spell. I caught you." He lifted the weight of her hair from her neck where she was sweating. "There. That should cool you down and make you a little more comfortable. I should have told you that when I said live shrimp, I meant alive and squirming! I thought you knew."  


She pulled herself into a seated position to lean against his chest. "How would I know that? We don't have shrimp boats on Lake Michigan."  


"San Francisco? The Cali coast . . . no shrimping there? I never noticed."  


"Well, I didn't either. I ate my shrimp at restaurants. Help me up, okay? I think I'm all right now. This is embarrassing! Took me by surprise. Like those . . . "  


"Maggots. I know. Don't think about those now. I'll cook the shrimp. You don't have to look at them."  


"No. No, I'll be okay now that I know what to expect."  


"They'll still be alive when we pull their heads off . . ."  


"Oohhh. You do that. I'll cook them after you've killed them. It will satisfy your inner caveman."  


Laughing, he helped her to her feet and kissed her soundly on the cheek. "If you're sure you're okay, I'll go pay the man."  


"Go. I'm fine."  


A quick market stop added a crunchy baguette, fresh haricots verts and sprigs of fresh tarragon to their meal. Lisbon sat outside and nipped the stem ends of the beans. Jane stood at the sink, opening the window so they could talk. He beheaded and deveined the shrimp, occasionally grunting or yelling bloody remarks of revenge at his kill, all for Teresa's amusement.  


Lisbon came in with the beans just as Jane was finishing up, rinsing the deveining tool.  


"Hmmph," she teased, "I can't bring an extra sundress, but you can have a shrimp deveiner. I see what you're up to. You want me naked and fed."  


Holding his sticky hands away from her, he popped a kiss on her lips. "Always, Teresa. If you're naked and fed, I'm a happy man. Besides, I'm counting two sundresses so far."  


"Oh. Uh, that's right. I'm keeping them in my purse. So they won't take any room in the closet."  


"It's fine." He swooped in for another kiss and winked at her. "I know."  


Of coursed he did.  


They sat down to a simple meal, the shrimp sautéed with only butter, salt, pepper and tarragon, deglazed in a little of the white wine they were drinking. Lisbon had enjoyed cooking them, especially eating them with her mouth open in order to bite and obliterate them with her teeth- a little payback of her own for their squirming sneak attack. Jane laughed and encouraged her revenge with pirate-y bloodlust. Two bottles of wine so crisp that it almost shamed its glacial chill danced on their tongues to carry them through the evening and into the night.  


They sat on top of the picnic table in the heavy night air, using the bench for a footrest. The breezes were fresh and countered the humidity somewhat. Before long they were kissing under the stars and Teresa sat straddled on Patrick's lap as he caressed softly through her clothes. He concentrated on her breasts and nipples, so succulent even through her top which now sported two wet spots. Dipping a hand between her legs, he scratched and rubbed over her suit until she became restless enough to squirm, soft grunts of frustration as she tried to press closer.  


"I'm thinking of something you might like tonight."  


"Does it involve me being naked? With you?"  


"Yes. Completely."  


Moaning, she kissed his neck. "I'm in."  


"Follow me, my love." He took her hand and led her inside where he took his time undressing and kissing every inch of her as she stood.  


"I think I'm going numb, Patrick."  


"Lie down. I'll be right there." But she was too curious to lie down yet.  


Stripping off his clothes while her hands skated lightly to caress what he uncovered, he opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube, putting it in her hand. He held a long, fairly thick, flexible vibrator with several settings. It glowed hot pink in the dark.  


"Ooohhhh." She squeezed the tip of it, huffed and her hips wiggled a little. "It almost feels like you." She cut sly eyes at him. "But too cool. Your cock is hot!"  


"We'll get it warm." His eyes squinted slyly, too.  


"This looks like fun. Is it for you or for me?" She gave him a sultry smirk.  


"Ah, you want to use this on me?" His voice was musical and he raised his eyebrows, grinning as if he'd just discovered a deep dark secret from her question.  


"It looks a little big."  


"And we don't have any condoms. I'll have to wait."  


Kissing him, she took it from his hand, turned it to the first setting and touched it to his erection, watching as she ran it up and down his length. It curved near the top and she used it to hook the head of his cock. When he hissed, she drew it away. "Too much?"  


"Yeah. Right now. May I have it?"  


Smiling, she put it in his hand and he nodded at the lube she still held in hers.  


"Lie down. Maybe that's warm enough now." He joined her on the bed, holding out his hand and she squirted some lube there while he tucked the vibrator under his arm.  


"You want to watch?"  


She nodded. "Mmnnn."  


He helped her prop up on pillows, rubbing her entire sex with his wide palm, spreading her moisture and the lube together. It felt so warm. She wanted to move against his hand. But he went to her breasts next, spreading a little lube there, too, twisting it around her nipples, pulling them when they stood impossibly tall. "Patrick."  


A click, and then the low buzz started. He touched the head to her soft flesh, letting it sink into her just a bit before he slid it to her clitoris, held exposed by the spread of his thumb and finger. She moaned and looked into his eyes, hers deep and dark. When she cried out and stiffened, he pulled the vibrator away, put more lube in his hand, slathered the glowing pink and put the rest on her open flesh. Increasing the vibration, he entered her slowly, swirling to coat her as he held her hip and pushed it in. She moved down on it, nearly to his hand. He played with her lubed nipples until she was gasping and then backed off, lying on his side next to her stack of pillows, propped on his elbow. She watched his hand moving the vibrator in and out, moaning, crying out when the stimulation peaked.  


The glowing pink rod had captured their attention from the time Patrick brought it out. But that was nothing to the erotic sight of watching it disappear and reappear as he fucked her with it. Lisbon watched it move and then threw her head back onto the pillows, overcome by sensation when he really sped up and went deeper.  


Too aroused to stay his own hand, he rubbed the soft skin covering his granite erection. He wanted to squeeze and really work himself but it was too distracting, transferring his focus. Resting his head against Teresa's arm, he whispered, "Hold me?" as he used his hand to brush himself delicately along her hip bone.  


Her hips undulated now as he brought the vibrator in and out, but she took him in hand tenderly. He opened her fingers and squirted some lube there, gasping at the sensation as she moved faster, gliding and squeezing. Now her touch was an echo of what Patrick made her feel below. Stomach muscles clenched and breathing like a train he put more lube on Teresa and bumped the setting up, angling the rod until the bent tip found a spot that made her release a loud wavering cry, her jaw clenched. She twisted her hand around him like a joystick, frantically rotating her palm on the knob. It seemed like tension release for her but it drained his brain like an oil pan and he hunched into her slippery hand.  


He could barely think anymore, remember to bring the vibrator out to press her clit, but the next time he did it, she shook her head. "No. Keep it inside. And turn it down a notch."  


In a few seconds he came, pulsing under her touch. It felt volcanic as he shot into the air, landing in pulses on the other side of her body, errant drops splashing her belly. He focused on the rod inside her and started circling the base, pressing on the mouth of her vagina, holding the tip at the spot that was driving her crazy until she yelled and the rhythm of her release made her breath sob.  


When they had finally collected enough wits between them, their thirst drove them from bed. Lisbon threw a sundress over her naked body and Patrick put his shorts back on. They each grabbed beers and koozies and went outside to catch the breezes at the picnic table, slaking their thirst.  


Sitting across the picnic bench from each other they talked and laughed, looked at the stars and the sea in the distance, frequently holding hands with caressing thumbs on the tabletop. Lisbon opened her legs wide, cooling her naked core under the table.  


"Teresa, does this bother you?" He twirled his ring with his thumb.  


She stopped his thumb and twirled it a little with her own fingers. When she looked at him, her face was carefully controlled. "It does. And it doesn't."  


His face reddened, his eyes sad and ashamed. She got up to sit next to him, close.  


"It's a part of you and I understand why it means so much to you. It makes me love you, that you can be so devoted and true. I feel I'm getting that devotion now, and it makes me happy."  


Jane tried to smile, but couldn't pull it off because he was also trying not to cry.  


"You say I'm your wife now, we're married."  


He nodded as a tear rolled down his cheek.  


"You're a man who loves this tradition. You know I want a committed relationship with you. I've called you my husband. Just last night to the policeman. You proposed to me yesterday and I accepted. But you still wear this. I know you won't wear it on our wedding day, so It doesn't threaten me. I think this ring . . . " She petted the finger with hers. ". . . this ring has meant so many things to you over the years. I think it's a bridge for you now. So you don't have to feel alone even for a minute. It lets you have . . . Angela, your, your late wife . . . until you have me, your new wife." She hugged him, trying to take some of the sting from her words as she whispered in his ear, "And it does hurt sometimes."  


He held her tight as sobs convulsed his body, choked out over her shoulder in gasping cries. "I didn't mean to hurt you."  


"I know. It's only a little and only sometimes. I don't want you to feel alone either. Not for a minute." She used both hands to pet his head as he held her, shaking.  


"No. I'm being selfish and self-indulgent. I don't need it anymore. I have you. I don't feel alone. You're my wife now and I want nothing between us. Especially your understanding about something that hurts you." His voice was strained, high and cracking as he tried to talk.  


Teresa pulled back to look at his face, her hands holding his head in place. His eyes were red and dripping tears, squinted in pain. His lips couldn't form a kiss because they were controlled by his cries, so she kissed the corners of his mouth and told him how much she loved him, cherished his place in her life. "I'm your wife, too. I know that."  


Pulling away, Patrick said forcefully, "No. No. You're my only wife now. And I want it that way."  


Lisbon quietly wiped his tears with her hands, their knees touching as they sat straddling the bench. Jane had stopped crying and was sniffling the last of it. She watched his beautiful hands as he pulled off the ring and set it on the table. Then she looked into his ravaged eyes.  


"There," he said, and smiled.  


Sated with food, wine, sun, the sea, the salty air and each other, they went to bed. They closed a simple night, eventful and full of emotion, wrapped lightly in each other's arms.


	5. Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've taken a few what I hope are minor liberties with Corpus Christi's North Beach shops. I don't actually know the shops there, so I just installed what I needed. I hope the citizens and those knowledgable of Corpus Christi will forgive me.

Lisbon woke up holding her head and trying to moisten her mouth with her tongue. "Oooohhhh, I feel like crap! How do you feel?"  


"I have a little headache, probably just a tiny hangover, but nothing a couple of aspirin won't cure."  


Jane was already in the bathroom and she could hear him brushing his teeth. He came out tossing aspirin into his mouth, chasing them with a glass of water. "Bad, huh? What kind of crap do you feel like this morning?"  


She tried to laugh at his teasing but the movement sent little jolts of pain into her already sore head. "Stop teasing. I can't laugh. Are you through in the bathroom?"  


"It's all yours."  


Looking at her face in the mirror, Lisbon pressed on her puffy eyes. Her cheeks and chin were not any better. She looked down. Even her belly seemed puffy. "This is some hangover. For a couple bottles of wine between us and the fish? Oh. And a beer. Just a little too much, I guess."  


"Are you sure that's all it is?"  


"What, you think you know better than me?"  


"Uh. No. Of course not."  


"Sorry. I didn't mean to jump you. I'm edgy. Hand me the aspirin, please, and forgive me."  


"Nothing to forgive, hon. The bottle is right in front of you. On the sink ledge."  


"Oh." She downed a couple with plenty of water to counter the dehydration. Maybe that's why she was so puffy. Something about that thought didn't quite make sense but her head didn't want to deal with it.  


"Let's have a lazy morning in, Patrick. What do you say?"  


"Sounds marvelous to me. We can both recover."  


They kept breakfast simple and lazed away the early morning hours sipping coffee and tea, Jane on the couch, dozing. Lisbon slouched at the table, sprawled on its bench, and watching Jane doze when she wasn't dozing herself. About mid-morning, Patrick went to the park store and got a couple papers. Lisbon asked for a Coke and a chocolate bar. Sugar and chocolate craving, he noted. When he returned, he found Lisbon taking the sun in her bikini on the picnic table. How delectable!  


Putting the Coke on ice in a large glass, he set it on the seat near her hand. Lisbon started on the chocolate immediately and, if he had not asked her for some, Jane felt sure she would have eaten the whole bar in no time. As it was, she seemed to give him four small squares a little grudgingly, he thought. Sitting on the bench to read the papers, he peeped over the top every minute or two to ogle her beautiful shape, her skin and her plentiful breasts. Or her hair, face, eyes, lithe legs, tiny toes on her little feet. He was ready to flip her like an egg so that he could give equal attention to her hips and backside, freckled shoulders and creamy neck.  


"I think you're getting too much sun on this side. Maybe you should turn over."  


She giggled. A good sign; the chocolate must have cheered her. She took a long draw on the Coke. "Tired of this view? You're right. I need to bake the other side."  


She turned over and Jane studied the pebbly impressions the concrete had left on her skin. Her suit rode up the cleft of her ass, exposing most of her bottom, going milky above where the sun had been kissing it. Her suit top was fastened loosely, the tie ends enticing. Setting his paper aside, Jane tentatively kissed her back and shoulders, tender, appreciative kisses—both a delight and a distraction- while he slowly slipped the tie at her back. Sweeping her hair aside, he let it drift through his hand, enjoying the silky weight, pulling the tie loose to kiss her neck. He still smelled the soap from her shower last night. She sighed in pleasure.  


Encouraged when she didn't squirm away or protest, he tasted her shoulder and sampled her back to savor the heating skin, caressing her thighs with his whole hand, wrapping his fingers on the curves. Her skin was rich and soft, pliant on his tongue. He licked her freckles. Their number dazzled his eye in the bright sun. For a moment her back looked like a dense field of stars in a photographic negative. Hand moving to the back of her knee, he thwarted her ticklishness by increasing the pressure as his palm skimmed, lingering a moment in the depression before brushing down her firm calves to the bottoms of her feet, where he also applied more pressure.  


Her hips and lower back rose above the suit bottom, baring the sensitive triangle of flesh that often overwhelmed her when he stimulated it. He was very careful when he explored it now. Licking made her purr but even tender nibbling brought sounds of protest as soon as she felt the edges of his teeth. Her luscious backside wiggled as she moved, firm globes, plush and virtually out of her suit. Pushing a cheek up, he kissed the crease where it joined her leg. She wiggled her ass and moaned. Untying the bottoms, he exposed a cheek at a time, kissing and squeezing. The sounds she made excited him  


Sun-relaxed and eyes closed in pleasure, she put a hand at the front of his shorts, fumbling for his erection and he pushed it into her palm. When he rubbed the triangle with his fingers, she poked up her hips and he put his whole hand under her suit to fondle across the bottom of both cheeks until she moaned his name. Then he slipped a finger low and inserted it into her now wet core. Dizzy with the urge to mount her from behind, ravage her on top of the table, he barely managed to hold back in their exposed setting.  


When she rolled to her side to look at him, her top fell away, exposing the excited nipples tipping the rich fullness of her breasts.  


"What have you done, Patrick?"  


"Don't get up unless you're okay with walking completely naked."  


"I want you. I want you on this table."  


"Me, too." He gave her a swashbuckler's grin. "I don't know how the neighbors would feel about it. Maybe tonight when it's dark. I want you on your stomach, underneath me."  


Desire shone in her eyes.  


"But scoot a little closer and I'll help you out a little."  


Curious, she moved to him and he uncovered her breast, suckling it softly into his mouth, tongue teasing the nipple.  


Sighing satisfaction, she held his head closer. "Don't let go. You'll expose me.:  


"Unh-unh," he managed and put a hand back under her suit, cupping her bare bottom, caressing it as he pumped her breast with his mouth. The fleshy globes yielded to his hand and fingers. Finding the wayward string, he joined it to the one in front, tying it loosely to keep her covered. Then he moved his hand to the front, pushing her hips to make her roll to her side, and softly stroked the lips of her sex with his fingertips, scraping her nipple with his teeth to hear her high-pitched grunt.  


Teresa panted softly and he slipped a finger inside her to gather moisture for stimulating her clit. He rubbed and thumbed it mercilessly, hoping to get her off quickly. When she nearly squirmed out of his hand growling his name, he bit down on her tender nipple. She gave a sharp, open-throated scream that caught there when she lost her breath. Patrick sucked on the standing nipple in his mouth and circled her stiff clit furiously until her lungs sucked air like a sob and she came, spilling moisture onto the rest of his fingers.  


His impulse was to grab her up and carry her inside to lie on her stomach on the nearest flat surface- floor, couch, it didn't matter where. He'd jerk her hips up and let her scramble to her knees while he impaled her from behind, twisting and pounding until she quivered under him and he poured the marrow of his soul into her. When he emerged from the intense fantasy, he was holding his erect flesh through his thin, baggy shorts and could barely keep from finishing himself off. "Oh! Oh! Oh!" His face was bright red. He tried to calm his body and mind by leaning his forehead to Teresa's as she fumbled to cover her breast when he finally released it. He wanted to spill himself inside her, not into the sand under his feet.  


"Mmmmmm. I loved that. Even when you bit my nipple so hard."  


Brushing her hair behind her ear, he sucked the sensitive skin there and licked the shell, moving down her cheek to capture her lips for a long kiss.  


"Tie me up and let's go inside."  


His low laugh was suggestive but he started fastening her suit properly.  


"Oh, you know what I mean. That was an evil laugh. Do you want to tie me up?"  


"Do you want me to?"  


"You're evading the question."  


He smiled and lightly pinched the neglected nipple, making her squeak too much. "If you wanted me to, I'm sure I could enjoy it very much."  


"Do you want me to tie you up?"  


"I'd probably come in the first minute."  


Lisbon laughed out loud and sat up, full of mischief.  


"I think we should try it. When we get home. I've never done that before. I already have handcuffs. But not with me. Only zip ties."  


"I don't want to restrain you, or me, with metal, anyway. And the zip ties are too thin. They might cut us. We'll get something padded and easy." He looked into her dilated eyes. "Scarves should work on the posts of our bed . . . " His voice trailed away in a flush of surprise at her obvious desire for bondage play. She was lost in a fantasy, staring past him and breathing with her lips parted.  


Teresa was imagining Patrick tied to the posts of their bed with soft scarves, playing with him until he swore with want, writhing and thrusting as she fondled his balls with her fingertips and sucked the head of his swollen cock without releasing him until she had to have him or die. Her hand instinctively pressed low on her belly.  


"A little of that goes a long way with me," he broached cautiously.  


Lisbon turned guilty eyes on him, appraising his concern. "Oh, no. No! Nothing painful or humiliating. I was thinking of fun. Tickling or, or teasing or-"  


"Fucking mercilessly?"  


"Something like that." Bright red now, she couldn't help feeling embarrassed at what he might think of her. "But not force. I didn't mean that. I would never want to hurt your body, Patrick. I've hurt you enough with Pi-, with how I acted those last few months." She held her breath against the urge to cry, her neck and ears warming under Jane's gaze.  


"Hey." He pulled her to the edge of the table and snugged his hands to her waist. "Everything you describe sounds wonderful to me. I want to play. Okay?"  


"Yeah."  


"I can't wait until you've got me where you want me." With a wide grin, he planted sucking kisses on her lips.  


She chuckled low and kissed him back. "Okay." But she stayed his hand as he picked up a tie. "I would never try to hurt you. If I do, it's a mistake. Or I'm stupid. And you have to forgive me." Tears shimmered as she held his hand tighter and with it, his gaze. Until now, she hadn't recognized the source of Jane's need to know he would always be forgiven. She needed his assurance, now.  


"Teresa. I know you don't want to hurt me. Ever. Especially now. Whatever you do, even if I have a few choice words about it, you'll always be forgiven. We will always forgive each other, won't we?"  


When she nodded, he pulled her to his chest, his big hand cupping her head to comfort her as her arms circled his waist. She squeezed and let him go, watching him barely whisper, "I love you," as she sat back. Pulling his hand away from her head, she turned the palm and kissed it.  


When he'd finished tying her suit back on, he laid a hand on her belly and moved close to kiss her.  


She squirmed under his hand, removing it. "That's uncomfortable. It kind of hurts. I want to go inside." Lisbon went in and headed for the bathroom.  


"Cramps," she said when she came out. "I'll probably start my period tonight or tomorrow. I usually don't get cramps until I'm . . . you know."  


"Bleeding?"  


"Yes. That's why I've felt so off today. Crabby and puffy. Achy. This might be a rough one, Patrick. I may not feel like doing much for a couple of days. Maybe tomorrow will be all right. I'm sorry." Her bottom lip started to quiver.  


"Hey. Teresa. We'll be fine. You don't need to apologize for being a woman with a cycle. I love you. I love your cycles, too. You know that. One of these days maybe I'll plug you up for awhile with a baby."  


"You want babies?"  


"Your babies? You bet. So beautiful. But only if you want them. As long as I have you, nothing else really matters."  


"I don't know . . ."  


Kissing her, he whispered in her ear, "Not tonight. I don't know why I even thought of it."  


"You always talk about babies when my period comes. I guess that's natural enough. I just never asked if you wanted them."  


"Sure."  


"Your babies would be gorgeous."  


"You think so?"  


"I know so." She pinched his waist. "And so do you. I don't know if I'm up to raising a trickster, though. I'd fall in love with her so hard, she would get away with everything. Just like you."  


"Me? Get away with stuff? I think those days are over."  


"I hope so."  


"Anyway, like you'd let—him get away with everything. And maybe I wouldn't teach him my tricksy ways."  


"Of course you would. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself." She kissed him and hugged his neck. "I love you, Patrick."  


"Maybe you'll let me make love to you. You know how much I'll want to."  


Smiling, she looked deeply into his dreamy eyes. "I know. I wish I could promise. We'll see. I just wish it didn't happen now."  


"We'll be fine. Whatever you need, we'll do."  


"Okay. I think I need to walk a little bit. Let's visit the shops on North Beach."  


"Great idea! Maybe we can go for a quick dip afterwards. We'll have dinner at The Republic of Texas. You'll like it, a nice restaurant at the top of the Omni Hotel with a view of the whole Gulf. I'll make reservations. We can probably get away with dressed-up casual, but not beachwear. We can change in the lobby restrooms. You feel like seafood? Steaks?"  


"Mmmmm, steaks! Nice bloody, salty steaks! And baked potatoes with lots of cheese and sour cream and onions and bacon and butter! Do we have ice cream here?"  


Jane stared at her with wide eyes. She always wanted her steak dead and boring medium and her potato with a little butter, a lot of pepper and a dollop of sour cream. This was going to be one hell of a period. The thought struck a little fear into his heart. Her face was just screwing up to say something sarcastic about his staring when he snapped out of it. "We'll get some ice cream on the way back. What time do you want to eat?"  


"Five, five-thirty. As soon as they open for dinner. I have a taste for meat, now."  


"O-kay," he said, his voice soft and a little high.  


Meandering North Beach was pleasant. They took a short walk on the shore, looked in the shops, shared a Belgian waffle loaded with strawberries and powdered sugar. The breeze off the water blew sugar into their faces, frosting their eyelashes and painting them with white freckles. The waffles were piled so high that strawberry juice stained the tips of their noses. It gave them an excuse to lick and brush each other clean with their fingertips.  


When they walked into an artisan jewelry shop, Lisbon stood in the middle of the floor, mouthing an 'o' of pleasure at the beautiful work that glinted everywhere. She went immediately to trays of men's rings, concentrating on what she thought was Patrick's size and pointing to one with a shiny gray rippling surface, titanium with a watery texture like shaken quicksilver. Of medium width, a small sapphire was embedded in the titanium as if the ring had been dropped, just cast and still soft with fiery heat, to roll in a streambed, picking up the blue stone, its facets just emerging from the metal. Sun from the window struck blue light. The flash was intense and then gone. To Lisbon, its buried light was like Jane's beautiful self, hiding, and if you weren't looking you might miss the blinding blaze. She got to see it all the time now.  


She turned to Patrick. "Would you try it on?"  


He stared at it. "It's beautiful, Teresa." He looked at her face, softly excited and pink, love shining from her eyes. "You want me to wear your ring?"  


"If you like it."  


Patrick held it in his fingers, studying it. "Gorgeous." Looking carefully into her eyes, he waited for her to reveal her intent.  


"Put it on your right hand for now. When I put something on your left, it won't be a surprise and we'll both be ready." Smiling, she kissed him.  


"I love you," he whispered. Then he slipped on the ring. "It's perfect!" Holding out his hand to admire it, he showed her, too. "You gave me a promise ring." He couldn't take his eyes from it until he looked at her and rasped, "That's so beautiful."  


She caught his fingers and, bringing them to her lips, kissed the one wearing the ring. "I'm glad you like it."  


When they walked out of the shop, Patrick felt light, floating as if he weighed nothing at all. No one had ever given him anything like this. No one. And certainly not for no reason at all. Teresa constantly surprised him. The experience of her bright intensity, her sexuality, the deeply romantic heart hidden under cop gear. Always her impulse to kindness. He caught her hand. "I'm so glad I didn't let you fly away."  


"Me, too. You don't know how much. I love you, Pat."  


He snickered. "Pat?"  


She stopped and looked at him. "Rick?"  


"No."  


"Paddy?"  


"No!"  


"Honey? Baby? Sugar lump?"  


"I'm sure there will be occasions where you could thrill me with any of those names. If it comes out of your heart, it will mean love, to me."  


"You're such a romantic, Pat." She winked at him.  


He held out his ring for them both to admire. Flashing brightly in the strong sun, the liquid gray of the ring brought out the color of the stone. "That makes two of us, Reesie."  


"No!" She chased him down the sidewalk, pinching his ass every time she caught him.  


Steak and potato! Lisbon ordered everything she'd been craving. Of course, she only ate about a third of it, blaming the Belgian waffle. They had the rest packed to go because she wanted 'more meat' tomorrow. He planned to heat the potato for their breakfast along with some nice eggs. They lingered over dinner, sipping wine and enjoying the vast Gulf view. The sun made a fiery path low across the water. Far away, the ocean misted into a cloudless sky, pale blue going to gray as the light failed. Dusk was still bright, but approaching, the shadows long when they left the restaurant.  


Lisbon lost all energy about halfway to the car. There was no place to sit and rest. Jane wished they'd used the valet service, but Lisbon had wanted to walk. She stood blinking her bleary slitted eyes, so pitiable that Jane hiked her into his arms and carried her the rest of the way with her legs wrapping his waist, her thigh holster a lump under his forearm. She fell asleep with her head on his shoulder, breathing hot onions onto his neck and up the side of his face. He settled her in the car, belting her in and parking where he could watch her while he ran into a convenience store for ice cream. Not knowing what flavor she wanted, a pint of pistachio and a pint of chocolate seemed like a good bet.  


Teresa was sound asleep when they pulled up to the Airstream. He let her be while he put things away, then came back for her.  


"Come on, babe. Stand up and let's go inside."  


She held out her arms. "Carry me."  


"No, walk. It's just a few steps and I carried you halfway from the restaurant. You know my caveman abilities are waning. Come on, now." He took her hand and tugged to encourage her to move.  


Clomping to the door like Frankenstein's monster, she made it inside, plopped on the couch to her side and snuggled in. Jane sighed, made a cup of tea and sat at the table sipping as Lisbon abandoned herself to sleep, her sundress hiked and the hem caught in the handle of her gun. He chuckled. It was rather like seeing to a drunk friend. But a strapped, drunk friend. He decided to clean up and get ready for bed while she slept.  


Leaving the shower with a towel wrapping his waist, he almost ran into her standing near the door.  


"I heard you finishing up. I need to brush my teeth."  


He smiled and stopped himself from saying, 'Yes, you do.'  


When she came out, Lisbon sat next to him on the bed and leaned against the wall with him. She caressed his stubbly cheek with her hand, turning his face to her. "You've been so good to me tonight."  


The sapphire in his ring glinted midnight, picking up and losing the ambient light while he touched her face or let locks of her wavy hair slip through his hand. He looked into her beautiful green eyes and lost his way, the feeling that welled from his heart overtaking him. "I love you so . . . so much . . . I'm mad, I'm . . . Teresa. You're my best friend and I'm madly in love with you."  


"C'mere." Placing a hand on each side of his head, she drew him for a long, tender kiss, petting his hair and sinking her fingers into the curls. She didn't stop, making hungry noises as she penetrated his lips with her tongue. He opened and slid his wide tongue onto hers and then all over inside, tasting the mint of her clean mouth. Her hands skated greedily over his chest, his ribs and his rippling stomach, sinking her head to tongue and suck his tiny erect nipples.  


He threw off the towel, pulling her to lie on the bed and rolling onto her to press his hard cock against her panties. Her breath rocketed until she was gulping air, writhing under him and groaning, "Patrick" over and over, begging as she opened her legs to wrap around his. Slipping his hand under the cotton covering, he found her soaking. He let his fingers ride the slick to the aching nub between her lips, circled a few times pressing on it and she exploded, crying out as if falling from a great height, holding onto his neck. He petted gently, cooing softly to soothe her as she came down, then drew his fingers away.  


He ached to be inside her, but he had to remove the holster before he could take her panties off. Lightly, he knuckled the damp patch of cotton, then moved lower to unsnap the leather clasp and take the gun from its holster, leaning to carefully settle the weapon onto the floor. The buttery skin of her inner thigh crinkled in folds as he pulled cautiously on the tight belt to loosen the hitch of the buckle without pinching. He let the belt fall open, then dangled it to drop next to the gun. Her thigh had red pressure marks from every part of the belt and he petted her marred skin with long sensuous fingers, kissing a trail where they had soothed. Her legs shifted restlessly and released her scent, so hot with the approaching climax of her cycle, overlaid with desire. It loaded his brain with want, crushing any other thought.  


He heard her say, "My stomach. It can't take much weight."  


Nudging her from her back, he helped tuck her knees and slid into her from behind. His mind scrambled in the shock of her, so fucking hot that she was transferring fire wherever he touched inside. His hands worshipped the shape of her hips as he pumped into her, the curved flesh blossoming against his flat belly and narrow hips.  


When his brain shut off, he no longer thought about what he was doing to her, how to make her come or hold her back, teasing. He felt only himself, moving in her, following orders from somewhere low that had set his cock on fire from within. And he had to shower her with that fire, pour it into her. Teresa's voice was a sobbing whine as he curled over her back to probe deep, feeling her entire volume swallow him and wrap him in hot liquid silk under high pressure. Sometimes it convulsed and tried to hold him but he was not allowed to stop.  


His climax forced him upright, sending chills up his spine to his shoulders as he gripped her in ecstasy. His scream was high and crazed as he emptied fire into her, tears from its power running the sides of his face until he collapsed on her back, still writhing in her. He pushed her gently to lie under him, words of love and adoration on his sobbing breath. Swollen and locked together for a few minutes, they throbbed as one heart, separation a little painful, a reluctant suction that made them groan.  


Teresa held him close to her breast, soothing him from the profound state that had controlled him and driven her to endless waves of ecstasy. This time, there had been no distinct Patrick or Teresa in the climax of their lovemaking, only their male and female animal natures, mating. The experience of that coupling had been transcendent, unbound by their bodies or time. She'd never felt that, had understood nothing about sex except some interesting mechanics, until Patrick. She was coming to understand its utter power, it's ability to reach between the two of them to heal, to create understanding, even new knowledge, its pleasure bonding them in love without words. And she knew Patrick understood.  


To think she'd almost missed this . . . this blessing, set panic into her heart. Turning to him and scooting lower, she wriggled into his arms, getting as close as she could. "I love you, Patrick. I want to stay with you always. Never leave me!"  


He held her tight. "Never!"


	6. Wednesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More liberties taken with the Emerald Beach Hotel restaurant. I have no idea what they serve. I just made up something tasty. Same with The Seawall. I have no idea if there's a bar with pool there.

Lisbon was already out of bed when Jane got up the next morning. After he cleaned up and dressed, he wandered to the kitchen to find her wearing only panties, her ass on the table, one foot on a bench seat and the other dangling with her rocking leg over the front edge. She ate pistachio ice cream from the carton, a serving spoon in her hand. Jane stopped dead in his tracks and smiled, mouth parted, noting that about a fourth of the treat had been eaten.  


There was a film-chic trampy edge to her beauty in the picture she made and he wished he dared to snap it. Hair still sleep-mussed and hanging around her shoulders. Naked breasts shifting in the morning light, the pink nipples and rosy aureolae relaxed as she balanced on the table and spooned the ice cream. Legs carelessly open, her panties the only concession to modesty. Tiny toes wiggling when the ice cream hit her tongue and brought a smile to her lips.  


She lipped some of the creamy green from the spoon and then looked at him, the melt filling the crease of her mouth. Holding the spoon out, she offered, "Want some?" Her comfort, her relaxed manner was cheeky somehow.  


Jane watched her nipples pull tight as she looked at him. He started, eyes round, amusement running through him like champagne bubbles. Managing to keep his smile from widening to a goofy grin, he merely shifted his eyes to look away and breathed out a soft, "No. No, thanks," shaking his palm low. Judging by the peri-menstrual wind-up, this was going to be one hell of a period. Then he moved to put the kettle on. Noting that she had no cup yet, he offered, "Tea?"  


"Coffee in a minute." She capped the carton and put it in the freezer, then dropped the spoon into the sink. Jane fondled a breast as she came near and tweaked the nipple."  


"Ow! Damn it, that's too hard!"  


"Oh! Sorry. I'll be more careful." He grabbed her lightly at the waist and pulled her closer. "Let me take it back." So delicately, he kissed each nipple and tongued his contrition.  


"That's better. You're forgiven." A hot gleam in her eye, she picked up his hands and brought them back.  


"Get dressed." His fingers stroked her breasts to peaks.  


"What for?" Holding his head, she tried to pull his lips to them again, but he smiled and twisted out of her hands.  


"Propriety? I'm taking you for a nice breakfast and I don't think they'll understand your current attire."  


"What am I going to wear?"  


"I know you've got another sundress stuffed in a baggie in your purse. Something no-wrinkle, I assume."  


"Smarty pants. You've been snooping!"  


Putting his hands on her waist, he slow-danced, speaking to her of, "Bacon . . . mimosa . . . sausage . . . waffles . . . eggs benedict . . . champagne . . . strawberries and cream-."  


"Stop. All right,' she laughed. "Now I'm starving. I'll just be a minute."  


"After breakfast we have to do laundry!" he called after her.  


She came back out in her sandals and a short green jersey knit dress, thin straps going over her shoulder like a tank top. "I don't have on any panties yet."  


"Oh? Is that an invitation? If so, I say, 'Yes.' Let's skip breakfast.'"  


She frowned. "No. I started."  


Jane tilted his head. "You mean you just now started? Because your pa-, your panties . . . there was nothing on them . . ." He knew immediately he was in too deep.  


"Yes. Just now. Can we not talk about flow and gravity? It's light but I've started. And I don't have anything for it."  


Flow and gravity was the last thing Jane wanted to discuss with an obvious expert. "Sorry. I wasn't trying to . . . of course you know. I think you'll find your usual brands in the bathroom. Bottom drawer."  


Pausing a beat to stare at him, she turned and went in back. He heard packages tearing and smiled. When she returned, she looked a little grumpy.  


"You're too nosey, Patrick Jane. How did you know to pack tampons and pads?"  


He turned to face her, a bit put out that his thoughtfulness was being perverted by her mood. "I don't like your tone." He spoke softly.  


"Don't pretend to be the wronged one, here."  


"Wronged? How did I wrong you? I merely anticipated your needs. A simple 'thank you' would have done the trick."  


"How did you know? Are you keeping a calendar on me? Counting the days? That's my business. You stay out of it!"  


Spots of color appeared on Jane's cheeks as he tried to breathe through his irritation. "I'm not counting. I do live with you Teresa. I live with your cycles, and it's due. That's all. And besides, it's on your breath. Every part of your cycle is on your breath. And your, your . . . body."  


"What, you're a dog now?"  


"Oh-ho! You didn't seem to mind that feral dog hunching into you for all he was worth last night, Teresa Lisbon."  


The image he conjured was lusty and comical, but profoundly true. Putting her hand to her mouth, she suddenly giggled, shining her bright green eyes at Patrick as he smiled and rolled his.  


"Oh. I like that dog."  


"I'm glad because that dog loses his mind over you."  


"My breath changes?"  


"Everything about your scent changes. I love it. It makes me feel connected to you in a very primal way. Intimate. Personal. Only I get to know it. It gives me a lot of pleasure to understand your body that way."  


"Mmmmmm." She leaned on his chest and raised her head for a kiss. "I won't take that away from you." Her eyes narrowed slyly. "Or me. I'm sorry."  


Dropping a kiss on her nose, he patted her back. "Let's strip the bed and get the rest of the laundry. We'll take it with us and do it after. Now, time to eat. I'm starving."  
"Me, too!"  


Breakfast was at the Sandpiper restaurant in the Emerald Beach Hotel, relaxed and easy. They had mimosas, French toast and plump sausages specially made fresh for the hotel restaurant. The coffee was excellent and served with a little ceramic pitcher of heavy cream. Lisbon drank until she sloshed. The hotel had beach access to the Emerald Cove, so they decided to put off laundry to go for a walk. They strolled the water's edge where the waves faded in and out, carrying their shoes and holding hands. Sitting in the sand for awhile, Patrick leaned back between Teresa's legs, propped on his elbows while she ran her fingers through his hair and played with the curls. Sometimes she kissed his ears or the back of his neck while he fondled her toes and feet. She watched him handle them with his straight fingers, so long they sometimes seemed ethereal in their graceful movement.  


When they were ready, they tended to more practical matters.  


It took almost two hours to do a few loads of laundry since the park laundromat was busy and they had to wait for a dryer. Lisbon, full after their big meal and the ice cream appetizer that started her day, held her belly. The room was overly warm and humid from the running machines and the bucket chairs were hard.  


She felt a little better after using the dingy bathroom, but quickly sank, looking pale as her cramping ratcheted up. She was irritable and snapped at Jane several times for things neither of them would ever have thought important under normal circumstances. When he suggested they drop her at the Airstream, she declined saying she didn't want to leave their things untended.  


Jane knew she felt half-sick in the heat but the only other option was for Lisbon to sit in the car and he didn't want her out there alone. Some of her complaints were loud enough to make others in the noisy room turn their heads to stare, no doubt hoping for things to escalate into a scene worthy of Jerry Springer. Wrapping an arm around her shoulder, he encouraged Lisbon to to rest on him, sleep if she wanted. For a few minutes, she seemed more comfortable, but then pulled away, loudly complaining she was too hot like that. Both of them were wet where their bodies had met. After that, she was averse to touch, squirming away when even his fingertips brushed lightly on her back.  


A scruffy-looking man pushing thirty wheeled his cart of wet clothes past them to the dryer. Hair stiffly disheveled, he looked as though he'd pulled an all-nighter and perhaps needed to do laundry in order to have a towel for a shower or anything clean to wear.  


He leaned towards them in a stage whisper, winking at Jane. "Your woman is really on the rag!" he sniggered. No doubt he meant it as man-to-man camaraderie.  


Jane bolted and had just lifted his foot to kick the cart out of the way so he could throttle the guy when a loud, sharp, "Patrick!" froze him with his leg in the air. "Shit for brains," he said menacingly, face crimson and staring the idiot down as he broke into a mild sweat. "She just saved your ass."  


Jane followed the man's movements with a hostile glare, daring him to come near or say anything else. But he stayed away from Jane and Lisbon and as soon as they had processed their clothes, they left.  


"You should have let me punch him. He was a prick!"  


"Yes, he was. But we're not going to be a feature on the evening news for that. She patted his leg. "Down, big dog."  


He laughed in spite of his pique.  


"And since when do you fight?"  


"It's you. You're mine. He overstepped. I don't know. I didn't even think about it. I just wanted his ass."  


"I'm not helpless. I could have kicked his ass if he needed it." She groaned and held her belly.  


"All right. Let's just get you home and you can rest."  


"That sounds so good."  


Jane sat on the bed as she got comfortable with a heating pad. "Is everything going to be okay?" He stroked her hair. "I've never seen you this way."  


"It's usually not this bad. But, yeah, I'll be fine. It's not fatal."  


"I know. How can you work like this?"  
"I don't. This only happens every year, eighteen months. I work through what I can, take a day or two off if I have to. Nothing else to do."  


"How about I go play some pool?"  


"Would you? I'd be so grateful. You don't need to stay around while I bloat and groan. You should enjoy your time off. I just want to rest by myself for a bit."  
Drawing the window curtains to darken the room, Jane set her phone on the mattress with her before he left. "I'll be down on the Seawall. Call if you need something."  


She was already asleep.  


Jane played quarters with some local guys until the bigger fish noticed his skills and wanted some of the action. They were also amateurs, no doubt vacationing out of town and indulging an impulse to try their hand. He knew they would come and debated with himself how Lisbon would take it. His motto used to be, 'Better to ask for forgiveness than permission.' But forgiveness was now a deep personal matter between Lisbon and him. He couldn't undermine its meaning by using it as an excuse to run a con at pool. If he kept it friendly and straight, and didn't try to turn it into a big play, things should be fine. He'd come home flush with cash and what wouldn't Lisbon like about that?  


By mid-afternoon, word had gone out, and he was taking thousand dollar bets from the sharpest players. His skill at pool was prodigious and he did well without turning each competitor into a mark It wasn't a quarter-of-a-million night, but he was up over fifty thousand by the time he left, even after he bought the house two rounds of drinks. The bar owner was satisfied, especially when Jane gave him a nice tip as well. Everyone was happy.  


A wad of cash like he had was tempting for even the lamest petty thief with a gun. He tipped the bouncer two hundred to bring his car to the door so that he wouldn't be a mark in the parking lot. He noticed two junkies and a working gal register disappointment as the bouncer opened the door to watch Jane drive off.  


It was past their dinner time and dusk was deepening into night. Lisbon would be hungry when she woke, so he took a chance and ordered scallops and red snapper and two bottles of their best white, packed in ice, for take-out from the restaurant where they'd breakfasted that morning. The salads were loaded with fresh shredded crab and a delicious creamy citrus vinaigrette. That they had copied a version of Red Lobster's cheesy biscuits was testimony to their perspicacity in Jane's eyes.  


Lisbon was poking in the refrigerator when Jane arrived with dinner. She was dressed this time, Jane was a bit disappointed to see.  


"I was just going to call you to bring food!" Eyes big with appreciation, her tongue swiped her lips several times as she watched him pull the contents from the bag and open the containers on the table. Kissing him excitedly, she thanked him and they sat down to eat voraciously, splitting the scallops and the snapper.  


He had forgotten about desert, but neither of them had room for any and there was still ice cream in the freezer. Or, at least Jane thought there was. He studied Lisbon, trying to discern whether she might have finished off all the ice cream.  


"What? What'd I do?"  


"Nothing. I was just thinking I forgot desert."  


"You still have room for more? There's pistachio and chocolate in the freezer."  


He smiled. "Maybe later." There wouldn't be a better time, so he set his winnings on the table, a fat roll of cash. "My pool winnings. Not the roll I'd have in my heyday, but won honestly."  


Looking calmly in his eyes, Lisbon saw only peace and a sparkle of pride. She fingered the money, rolling it back and forth. "How much?"  


"Fifty thousand, a little over."  


"Holy crap! What are you going to do with it?"  


"Not sure. What do we want? New car? A little lot on a lake? A boat? A nursery? A fancy vacation?"  


"You want a nursery?"  


"Not necessarily. It's just an item in a list. I want you to help decide. It's for us to enjoy however we want."  


"October! We can use it for our vacation!"  


"I like that. It will bankroll us in style." He made a mental note to get in several more friendly games before October. A real honeymoon called for a big bankroll!  


Lisbon sat up straight, giggled like a schoolgirl and clapped her hands. "We'll have so much fun!"  


Jane felt like the hunter who had bagged an elk. She was happy about what he'd brought home, even proud of him. She had trusted when he said that he hadn't run a con or cheated. Teresa believed in him. It was the best feeling in the world and one of the happiest moments of his life.  


They showered and put new sheets on the bed, folding the spread where Lisbon had slept. It would be too hot for the night. Her cramps returned with a vengeance before they turned in. She spurned his sexual advances as her period built momentum and Jane rubbed her back instead, then laid the heating pad on it. Nothing she took seemed to ameliorate the discomfort.  


Quiet and brooding, she made Patrick wonder if there was something on her mind, something bothering her. He'd ask in the morning. Maybe it was just the intensity of her physical woes. He shifted his legs, preparing to get up and go read on the couch.  


"Patrick. Are you awake?"  


"Yes." She did want to talk. He settled back. "You're pretty restless tonight. Must be hard to get comfortable, huh? I thought I might be keeping you awake and maybe it would help if I went to the couch to read. Can I get you anything?"  


"No. I'm sorry. I'm keeping you awake, too. Do you want me to go to the couch for the night?"  


"No! Do you want me there tonight?"  


She turned her head sharply towards him in the dark. "I'd never get to sleep, if you did."  


"Good. I could never sleep there when you're here in our bed."  


She chuckled. "Now that's a change. You not being able to sleep on a couch."  


"It's not the couch. It's being without you."  


Turning to him, she stroked his cheek. "I know. Me, too.." His face was so beautiful, his eyes so loving even now as she kept him from sleep. "There's been something I've wanted to talk to you about. Is it okay?"  


"Don't you think we should at least rest?"  


"I can't get if off of my mind."  


"Okay." He propped pillows against the wall and sat up, guiding her to lay her head on his lap. Stroking her shoulder until she settled, Jane started to twirl and fondle long strands of her hair.  


"I wanted to explain about Pike." She felt Jane stiffen and freeze, and offered him an out. "No?"  


Shifting his suddenly restless legs, he put his hand possessively on her rump. "We're in our bed, Teresa."  


"Oh. I didn't think about that. It can wait."  


"I don't think it can . . . now."  


"It's not about him, anyway. It's about me."  


He resumed playing with her hair. "I always love to hear about you." It was the truth. Nevertheless, his heart beat with a touch of anxiety.  


She took a deep breath and squeezed against him for confidence. "I was mad at you. And hurt . . . that you wouldn't tell me you loved me . . . it made me think maybe you didn't. And that was worse. I didn't want to be stuck so hard on somebody who didn't love me the, the . . . way that I loved you."  


In hindsight he knew this but still shied from the pain, from the memories of watching her choose another man. "I thought it was just a fling, soon over."  


Teresa paused, but didn't want to detour on why a fling would be okay with him. It was part of the whole issue anyway. "It was more purposeful than that. I didn't know how to make myself get away from you. I knew I couldn't just walk away. I wasn't able. You mean too much to me. Us means too much to me. But I was dying inside, needing you to love me back."  


Jane buried his reddened face in her neck. "Teresa. It's agony, imagining you in such pain. Because of me. My stupidity." He wanted her to stop talking so that he could stop hurting, but she needed this. She had to have what she needed.  


"I know. I'm sorry to bring it all back, but I want you to understand."  


He nodded, snuggling harder to remind himself that she was here, with him. She hadn't left him.  


"Do you want us to leave our bed, go to the couch or the table?"  


"Not now. You're in my arms. I can do it if I'm in yours, too. Just hold onto me."  


Lisbon rolled towards him, snuggled closer and crooked her leg over his hip. "When I flirted with him and he bit so hard, I just followed it down to the bitter end." She felt the distress in his breathing and rubbed his chest. "I was cruel to you, mocking, flaunting what I wanted you to think I had in . . . in someone else. Part of me wanted you to hurt . . . wanted to show you that I could find love without you. But Patrick, there was no love for me, without you."  


He stole a quick kiss. "I tried so hard to believe I was giving you what you wanted . . . what you needed . . . to be happy. I, I thought it would be enough to see you happy. But it wasn't. Abbott said I was believing my own con. He was right. I was conning . . . conning myself. I could never be happy without you. I wanted you to be happy . . . but only with me. I wanted to die when I, I screwed things up so bad that, that you went away." He tipped her chin up to look into his eyes. "I would have died, Teresa."  


"No! Don't say that! It didn't happen. And we're here loving each other, right now. This is just talk. And I'm almost finished. Please."  


Resting his forehead against hers, he nodded.  


"I would have tried . . . tried very hard to love him and be happy. He was good and kind, attentive. I thought I could love him someday. But there would always be you. My real love, the man who has my heart. The only one who ever could."  


"I should have known. I, I should have told you. I should have spoken for you right away. But the terror . . . the terror, Teresa, of being that close to you and if something happened and I lost you . . . I, I would never survive! I was so afraid to get that close again. But the terror, the absolute terror, of being without you was worse. I'm sorry I took so long. That I made you think I was pushing you into the arms of another man. That I, that I didn't care about you, love you with everything that I am. I'm sorry I was so, so clumsy."  


"Oh, Patrick, no. I hope that's all wiped away now. All gone and replaced with something so wonderful that it's worth all the pain it took to bring it to life. I loved you. I love you. I needed you so much. And now we have one another. Nothing could be better." Desperately, she wanted to hear him say he forgave her.  


"Me. Stripped down on the plane. Telling the truth about how I feel. That's what you wanted. And you held out for it. You were willing to go to an unhappy life for it. Oh, oh god, how could I have been so stupid, so cowardly? Caused so much pain?"  


"I need . . . I need to know . . . Tell me you forgive me, Patrick. Say the words!" She was on her knees, head against his neck, squeezing him and trying to make his arms go around her.  


"Yes! I forgive you, Teresa, my sweet love. All is forgiven. All is redeemed." She was warm on his chest. When he put his arms around her, he squeezed, one hand in the middle of her shoulders, the other at the small of her back, pressing hard as if trying to meld their bodies. She was trying to do the same. He didn't loosen his hold until he heard her panting in his ear for breath.  


"I love you, Teresa. You're my life. I love you. Tell me you forgive me, too."  


"Yes. Yes! Of course I forgive you. With all my heart. I wanted your love so bad. I wanted you to make love to me. And now we do . . . all the time . . . You love me in so many ways. It's my food. It makes me alive."  


Everything Patrick wanted was right here in his arms, in their bed, clinging to him. Petting her gently from head to hip, he listened to her words of comfort and love, returning them with his own whispers and tender kisses. Tonight she had led them both through the culmination of their storms and made forgiveness, openly stated, clear their hearts. Her voice drifting away as she fell asleep, lying against him, legs straddled across his hips. One hand was near his arm, fingers curled around the little burl of fat there over his breast, occasionally giving it a tender squeeze. Dotting her head with soft kisses, he brushed along her back and hips, cradled her bottom, covered her little feet with his hands until she murmured in dreams. He fell asleep knowing she cradled him, no matter how small her frame, no matter that she sprawled across his chest like a child who had just found home.


	7. Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be warned! There is period sex in this chapter. Please don't read if this offends you! I tried to keep the squeam down in order to make it enjoyable and fun for as many readers as possible. No doubt I will fall somewhere short of the mark. I apologize ahead of time. But I think it is a part of this story.

By morning, the constant ache in Lisbon's belly and back overlaid conscious thought like a scratchy blanket. Everything seemed dull, swollen and wanting. its irritable takeover a bit dizzying. Her flesh felt hot and her mood was whining, cranky. Underneath it all, her desire for Jane was building, competing with the impulse to push him away. The dull ache that built and ebbed in long intervals had wakened her several times in the night until finally sometime before dawn, she crawled to Jane to lay her head over his heart. He hadn't put his arm on her, just moved it close enough to rest his hand next to her backside. After a long sigh of blessed surrender, she had fallen into a deep sleep listening to the strong, steady thump under her ear.  


When she awoke, he had replaced himself with a pillow and she heard him stirring in the kitchen. She determined to suck it up as best she could to enjoy their freedom, still as precious as an empty basket, waiting to be filled with the events and memories of a new day with Patrick, and nothing to drag either of them away to a dead body. That, at least, was something to celebrate! Finishing up in the bathroom, she loaded up on analgesics and padded to the kitchen.  


"Hey! Good morning. I was just wondering what you want to do about breakfast."  


She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed as he filled the kettle. "I feel like a big warm kiss, and then something sweet with loads of coffee."  


"If my kisses are sweet enough, will that do?"  


"Mmmmm. They'll make me very happy. But my sweet tooth, uh-uh. Much more demanding."  


He turned, sliding inside her arms and bent for a soft kiss. She demanded more and he succumbed quickly to her hot mouth, her tongue probing him. He sprang to life against her belly and the want burrowed deep, taking her breath with it. Every cell sang with desire, still thin over the aching underlay.  


Jane bent to her, stroking her belly with the stiffie under his thin shorts. When she responded by curling into him and holding him closer, he let the heat blossom in his groin and started nibbling her neck, thinking of the loose breasts pressing against him. They had made love constantly since starting this trip, so more than twenty-four hours without it seemed a desperate deprivation now that his lust had been awoken again.  


When she gently pulled away, he realized dazedly that perhaps she wasn't in the same frame of mind. Catching his breath he looked at her. Nope. Her eyes were dilated, too. Lips red and plump, cheeks bright. She wanted him. Yet, there was a wrinkle in her brow. "You seem to be feeling much better. Are you?"  


She smiled wanly. "I will be. Drugs." A wink.  


"But I thought nothing worked."  


"I took double."  


"Teresa! Don't. Is that safe?"  


"My doctor seems to think so. I don't have my prescription with me, so I just took the equivalent."  


"Okay."  


"Maybe we can get back to this later?"  


His cock, which had been relaxing, jumped at her words. Visions of her writhing underneath him, lodged inside her overheated body, gently stuffing her swollen-.  


"Jane."  


He felt slightly dizzy and took a deep breath, looking at her beautiful face, framed with wavy chestnut hair.  


"Breakfast first?"  


His stomach growled in the expectant silence. "There's a pancake house, great reputation, that makes its own donuts."  


Eyes wide and sparkling over a wide grin, she said, "Let's get dressed!"  


Lisbon could feel the pain relievers start to kick in. Pushing the pain back a little pushed her sexual desire forward, but did not alter the volatility of her mood or blunt the slight disinhibition of her thinking . She stole glances while Jane undressed, his beautiful cock still at half mast as he searched for underwear to put on under a pair of jeans. He threw a tee shirt over his head, the faded teal making his eyes brim with intense color. He toed his beautiful feet into a pair of worn flip-flops.  


As she bent to pull her shorts on, he molded his hand to the curve of her hip and rubbed a little. Tipping her breasts into a bra, she held them in place while Jane fastened it.  


When she had buttoned on a blouse, he took her hand and pulled her close for a long embrace. Her body felt like a little heater. "Awwwwww, " he commiserated, "You're a warm little dumpling."  


His probably innocent endearment tried to rile her, but she stopped it with a deep breath and simply groaned a tease. "I hope you're not saying I'm fat."  


"I said you were warm and soft. You know I love you this way. And I know how to make you feel better." He unbuttoned the blouse she had just put on and slipped a hand into her bra, pressing the cup outward and fondling her breast with a touch as light as goose down. She hummed, nuzzling his neck, but edged him away when he tried to unfasten her bra.  


"We'll both starve to death this way." She opened his jeans and pushed them down with his underwear, putting a hand around his aroused flesh, warm and dry, satiny and full under her fingers. "I'll jerk you off." Her fingers caressed the underside and touched the sensitive striation near the head.  


The sound of those words, coming from her mouth, made him feel giggly but he suppressed it, her touch creating a long tingle that went to his balls. "You will, huh? Is that what you want to do?"  


"Not that much. But I will." She whirled her hand around the shaft and got his full attention. "Look, you're already halfway hard. It won't take long."  


He kissed the side of her head. "You're so sweet. But I can wait until you feel more like it." He wanted inside her surely dripping heat and would not be diverted by an enticing hand job.  


"Are you sure? I like your dick. I won't mind."  


He tried not to laugh and gave a little cough instead. She was so kittenish and vulnerable. She had never talked like this. But, they'd never spent so much uninterrupted time together. And she'd never had a period like this. They were learning all sorts of new things and relaxing into each other in ways they never expected.  


Tucking himself back into his jeans, he buttoned up. "Breakfast," he whispered.  


Family-owned, the pancake place was huge and crowded. After a short wait, the hostess asked their preference in seating. The counter and booths were full, but there was a small table at the back. Instead, they chose the large unique communal table where anyone could sit, the company changing as people came and went. A small family with two young boys sat on their right for awhile, but aside from hellos and exchanging names, conversation was nearly impossible, the demands of their spirited boys being great.  


When they'd nearly finished eating, Lisbon munching the last of a donut with vanilla icing and toasted coconut, a man came in alone and sat next to them on Jane's side, Jimmy, he said. He was middle-aged and his business clothing a little threadbare. He was too thin to order only a donut and coffee for breakfast and often glanced at their plates with only crumbles left at the edges.  


"I'm Patrick and this is my wife, Teresa. Looks like your day got off to a busy start."  


Jimmy snorted. "Busy for nothing. Lost my job a few months ago. Went for an interview this morning. Standard 'thanks for coming in.' They won't call back."  


"What kind of work do you do?"  


"Retail sales. We're a dime a dozen."  


Lisbon and Jane looked at one another, but there was nothing they could offer.  


Jane shrugged and signaled the waitress. "Three eggs, scrambled. Hash browns. Toast, butter on the side. A fresh fruit cup and a side of pancakes." The waitress finished jotting and raised an eyebrow at him. Who got the extra breakfast? Jane eyed the man next to him and she nodded. As she turned away, he said, "Oh! And two donuts to go, please."  


"What kind?"  


"I don't know." He turned to the man. "What's their best-tasting donut?"  


He smiled. "Try the fresh strawberry icing, with sprinkles."  


"You heard the man. Two of 'em."  


"Yes, sir. Coming up."  


They finished up quickly, paid the bill at the counter and left before Jimmy got his food. They just wanted him to eat, have some to carry with him. They didn't need the thanks.  


Lisbon didn't want Jane to have to laze around the house with her all day. Something active in the water would keep her sporty bad boy happy. "What do you say we swing by the hut, put on our suits and go to the beach? We can have a late lunch afterwards."  


His face lit up. "I'd love a nice swim. Are you sure you feel like it?"  


"Yeah. The pain meds are working. Let's go before they wear off."  


Lisbon appeared from the back wearing her bathing suit, tee shirt and sandals. "Beach!" She held a handful of tampons.  


"Want me to help you stuff three of those in?"  


She just laughed and made a hole for them in her purse. "It might not be a bad idea." She accepted that she'd be making regular trips to the bathroom to keep up with everything.  


It brightened her own mood to see how cheered he was at the prospect of another romp at the beach. Digging around in the "trunk" of the Airstream, he pulled out a yellow boogie board. "Let's give this a try! I almost forgot I had it."  


"Okay. But I don't have much experience with devices in the water. I usually just swim."  


"It's easy. You don't have to stand and balance like surfing. Just lay on it and ride a wave in on the shallows."  


Lisbon thought she would spend most of the time sunning on the sand. The baking warmth penetrated and relaxed every cell. But playing with Jane in the water made her much happier. She realized that he had brought out the boogie board for her. It allowed her to be in the water with him but at little expended effort on her part. He dragged her out and let her ride the board back to shore. She splashed with him a little bit, then lay on her back floating on the board to talk and tease, play and kick water on him. He loved retaliating, scooping up buckets worth in those large hands to douse her. His broad shoulders and narrow hips were frame to the sleek muscles of his arms and chest. Sun glinted from the drying halo of wet curls that sprang in chaos from his scalp. His head was full of sky, piercing her with eyes lit in its color and that of the reflecting sea. He was a water god, her god. He touched her nearly all the time, brushing his hands down her thighs or bending over her head to kiss her, upside down.  


Jane had patience for the trips she had to make to the bathroom and helped wrap her waist with a towel one time to hide the flooding streaks down her leg, then waited while she washed out her suit bottom at the sink. He knew she was not feeling her best, knew she was making the effort for him and it drove his love for her even deeper, higher, further . . . somewhere in the region of Jupiter times infinity, now.  


Taking a last dip, they packed up and headed for the Airstream. Teresa stopped him at the door. "Wait. I want to tell you something."  


Looking at her calmly, he soaked in the radiance of her sun-filled day. It bloomed on her cheeks and nose, blew through the wisping strands of hair that floated on the breeze, kissed her shoulders and the exposed plumpness of her breasts, the loose top showing a line of cream where the rest of them hid. Finally his eyes returned to her smiling face.  


"I love you, Patrick. You made my day wonderful. The same as you do my life."  


"You did the same for me. And every day of my life."  


They didn't try to kiss or embrace, only gazed into each other's eyes, lost in the depths for a moment.  


Lisbon spoke first. "Do we have any red wine? And I want my leftover steak for lunch."  


"Wine and cold, bloody steak."  


"Yes. I'm really hungry and I want it now. My breakfast has worn off."  


"Go in. I'm sure we've got some red stashed away in there. And you can warm up your steak while I'm hunting."  


"I don't want to warm it. I want it cold."  


He kissed her forehead. "As you wish. You can have the shower first."  


They rinsed briefly to get the sand off and threw on some loose clothing. When Jane came out, Lisbon sat at the table with her meat while he quickly found and opened the bottle of red, pouring a glass to set before her. She took a large bite of the meat, held in her fingers and then set it on the now tattered aluminum foil wrapping while she chewed. "Mmmmmmmm! Good!"  


She smiled brightly at Patrick while he got down a small plate, a knife and a fork, setting them in front of her, moving her steak to the plate and clearing the wrappings away. She stabbed the meat with a fork and ate it like a popsicle. He poured himself a glass of wine, sat across from her and opened his mouth for a bite. Grinning, she offered him the speared meat and he took a polite bite, imagining her wrath if he had tried to tease her by taking a chunk to fill his mouth, as he was tempted.  


"I hope you don't mind me eating like this. It tastes so good and I'm so hungry." She downed three large gulps of wine.  


"No. No. You eat like a caveman's wife. It's fitting."  


That got him a suspicious look, daring the tease, but she was distracted by the need to take another bite of meat and another gulp of wine.  


"I'm thinking of using your baked potato to go with some eggs."  


"More eggs?" Then her eyes brightened, and she said excitedly through a mouthful. "I want some, too!"  


He set the carton of eggs, milk and a bowl in front of her with another fork. "You can get the eggs ready to scramble."  


"I'll put lots of pepper in them."  


"Thanks. But I'll pepper my own eggs when they're done." The way her palate was running, there was no telling what she'd do if allowed a free hand with the pepper!  


As he suspected, Teresa didn't eat much of the eggs and potato. Her brain had sent out the satiation signal to her stomach by the time they were ready. She was a bit tipsy after two glasses of wine. She must be trying to counter the waning effects of the pain medicine. She asked him for another glass. Complying, Jane poured himself another, too. He got her to take a last bite of potato as ballast against the wine and watched her, listened to her chatter, fascinated. Suddenly, she was looking into his eyes, her own round and liquid, bright green in the sun through the window.  


Her smile was warm and a little calculating. "I love looking at your eyes. Such a beautiful color."  


"I was just admiring yours."  


"I can't believe how lucky we are. To have found each other. To love each other so much." Reaching a hand across the table, she wiggled her fingers for him to take it. When he did, she got up and came to sit in his lap, snuggling into his arms as he wrapped them around her.  


"I love you, Teresa. Everything you do, I love."  


She put her arms around his chest and snuggled closer. "Take me to bed. I want you to make love to me."  


They kissed at the table until Teresa's breath became fretful, unable to get enough of what she wanted. She gripped his upper arms to anchor the pressure she put on his lips and into his mouth, transferring the taste of her bloody breakfast. Carrying her in his arms he gently set her on the bed, lying on his side next to her.  


Her hands were all over him as she panted, thumbing his nipples, skating his skin, squeezing his muscles until he panted, too. When she skimmed his belly with her fingernails, his muscles writhed and he thrust his hips, pushing his hard flesh into her hand, naked under his thin shorts. Lifting the waistband, she went after his cock. Instead of grasping it, she pranced the tips of her fingernails along his length and reached low to caress his balls, thumbing the front and scratching lightly wherever she found hair. Their weight and shape thrilled her and he had to make her stop fondling him. "You'll make me come too soon."  


He pushed her gently back on the bed, running his hands down her arms and lifting her hands to kiss the fingers. Teresa wore no bra. Lifting her shirt, he allowed the sight of her beautiful round breasts to fill his eyes before he hungrily mouthed the milky satin mounds, avoiding the nipples he knew would be ultra-sensitive. They pointed and she pushed them at him, offering more, finally moaning with relief when he began to carefully stimulate the hard buds of rosy flesh. His tongue was warm, constantly moving and suckling, gentle and persistent. His nose nudged her skin, picking up the scent of the sea and the oily, softening sun.  


As he moved, his cock nudged Teresa, straining his shorts. She reached into the baggy leg to gently work him down and out. Delicately, she brushed his length with caressing fingers, teasing his silky skin before taking hold of him to gently pull as she began a breathy whine. "You're skin is so soft, and you're so hard."  


Her breath tickled his ear and shot electricity through his entire body, making his cock jump in her hand. Tenderly sucking in more of the breast at his mouth, he slipped under her panties, across the rough stubble where they'd shaved her several days ago, and accosted her clit with two eager fingers.  


When she gave a little scream and pushed into his hand, he rubbed harder, circling until she came with a series of long gasping sighs that marked the spasms of her release. "Oohhhh, that feels so good."  


He bent to the sides of her breasts with kisses so soft he had to make them harder because Teresa shied and called them tickly. "I'm glad you liked your orgasm. Are you ready for me?"  


"I want you bad, Patrick." Her eyes glinted dark light.  


"Take off my shorts and kiss me." He lifted for her and she pulled them over his feet. Bending, she kissed his smooth flesh, holding onto him with both hands. He slid her lower clothing over her hips, pushing it gently to her knees. Then he leaned back to enjoy what she was doing to him, sighing and whispering her name. Absently, his hand roved her bottom, caressing her smooth curves. He wanted to be far enough along, knowing that she would come easily and couldn't take a prolonged session. When she began to lick the moisture welling at the opening in his cock, he removed her top, pushed her tenderly to the pillow, and raked off the clothing that was bunched around her knees.  


Then he turned her to kiss the bottom he'd caressed all day. She smelled of the sea here, too. He pressed the fleshy lobes to his face, sucking and kissing, careful not to let her feel his teeth. Moving lower, he parted her a little to kiss the creases of her legs and the bottom of her cheeks. He pushed his mouth into the low juncture of curves and found the soft lips of her sex, his nose over the clean bud of her ass. Lifting her leg over his head helped her turn to her back. He started laying down fleshy kisses in the creases there, at her legs, on the low edges of her swollen labia. Her scent was metallic floating over clean, tender Teresa. The tampon string was soaking red, wicking droplets to her skin.  


"Do you want on top?"  


"Not this time. I'll ride you too deep and it will hurt. I'm out of energy and starting to ache. But please don't stop. I want you. Can I just lie back?"  


"I'll be nice and easy with you."  


"I know." She cradled his head in her hands, sifted her fingers through his curls and looked into his eyes, stormy with desire. "You always make me feel good." She opened her legs, kissing him as his hand greeted her there.  


She was running wet already where she had leaked through, the crease of her ass a little red stream. His fingers found the wet string. He wrapped it around his index finger and tugged gently until the tampon end slid outside her body and he grasped it, twisting gently until he pulled it completely free, then set it aside on the sheet. Her blasting heat rolled across his stained fingertips. The sheet underneath her soaked a little pool of red. She was flooding and he was going to make some of the pain go away.  


Sitting on his knees he drew her onto his legs, creating new streams. He held himself as he pressed into her a little way. "Oh, fuck!" She was hot enough to melt iron, but she was forging his. He thought the tip of his dick might flare like a match. Their position forced her legs wide as they hung over his, exposing her to his fingers and shifting her aroused breasts towards her shoulders.  


Teresa's breathing accelerated, punctuated with little cries of anticipation, craving him. He rarely swore during sex but there was something about it that set her on fire when he did. Today it made her more willing to move through her discomfort.  


He was lodged at the mouth of her core but using his fingers to bring her quickly to orgasm. At this point in her cycle, he knew she could come several times, each set of spasms conditioning her inside and helping to ease what was making her cramp so badly. He thumbed her clit, watching it poke in and out of its red hood. Prolonged intercourse or excessive posturing would be too much for her but handling her to bring her to orgasm would bring pleasurable relief.  


As she careened over the edge, she called his name and gripped the sheets. He allowed her to briefly touch the rigid shaft that he had partially plunged into her, then gently brought her hand to lie on her breast. He dusted the other nipple with his finger, firing a rocket of sensation into the small bit of flesh, making her gasp and stiffening both sides. When she started brushing them herself, Patrick began to move inside her.  


She was already dripping, his legs wet with her, and more welled as he slowly pushed in. Her scent was wild and metallic. He was dipping into a hot spring, liquid and sapping away care, draining thought and inhibition. Gripping her hips, he raised his head and let it fall back in a throaty sigh of gratitude, then leaned over and slid gently in, staying well away from her cervix. "God, Teresa, you're roasting me alive and it feels so good!"  


Her answers were inchoate sounds of bliss, her breath shallow and gasping as she continued to stimulate her nipples. Close to orgasm again, she needed his hand, so he rested inside her and massaged her clit, this time catching it between two fingers and running it back and forth until she came with a little scream. He petted her mons, cupping it and massaging gently, his thumb under them both, until she recovered.  


Patrick started to move again, very slowly. Such delicious torture almost made Teresa insensible. Her lust wanted him deep. Her swollen sensitive interior wanted only the slow gentle tease, and that's what Patrick gave her. Everything inside made her a slick, easy ride and she ceded all control to him. Moving for him would disrupt everything. She gripped the sheet, her head rolling from side to side to release the tension that built into a pleading moan.  


On an ordinary day, she would be ready for him to ride her until the bed shook, until pounding and squashing her clit with the force of his thrusts sent her helplessly over the edge. What Patrick, so close to climax, did instead was to speed up, lengthen his strokes to pull just into the resistance at her opening and then slide right back in, staying shallow but driving her to madness with the speed of his controlled strokes.  


When she caught his eye, she saw the same desperation for release that she felt and it sent her into orgasm with a rending thump, lifting her shoulders from the bed to curl over the contraction, obeying its pull.  


Instead of burying himself in her as he came, Patrick leaned back to stay shallow, shooting semen to the bottom of her, pulsing softly inside her heat. "Jesus," he sighed. Sex with Teresa was never the same twice. At least not so far. Always a new experience, sometimes profound, sometimes obscene, funny, profane. He wanted constantly, to feel the pleasure of her certainly, but also to see what she would be like next. He pulled out, fascinated by the swirling red and cream that flowed out of her, down his legs, around her bottom still pressed on him, and then to the sheets.  


They wrecked the sheets and themselves, their movement and the wide area of their reach marked and streaked and blotted with fingerprints.  


"Oh my god!" Teresa laughed in spite of the mess. "It looks like a slaughterhouse in here. We must have ruined your mattress."  


"Our mattress. No. It's fine. There's a vinyl protector covering it under the sheet. Shhhhhhh. Don't tell anybody." He curled his forefinger as a dramatic come-hither. "Wet dreams." His amused eyes cast surreptitiously right and left as he leaned in to divulge his secret. "Sometimes with my hand." He nipped her chest, carefully avoiding anything too tender. "Dreaming of you, of course." He gave her a hot wink as she soaked in the depth of his meaning.  


She bit him back, pressing her teeth into the muscle of his chest, gnawing softly but for only a moment. "It's a good thing we finally got our love affair started, you poor frustrated darling." Her grin playfully mocked him.  


"Love affair? You think of what we have as a love affair? I must be doing it wrong." He touched his promise ring and closed the light of the sapphire with a fingertip.  


"I love what we have. Although our times together are usually rushed. And happen when we're exhausted."  


"A love affair means you might leave, Teresa."  


"I'm not leaving. I want more time, not less. I gave you that ring, remember?"  


"Then it's not a love affair."  


"What do you call it?"  


"We live together. We want that to be forever. You're my wife. I'm your husband. We're married."  


"Then I guess we may as well make it legal."  


"We will. But it won't change who you are to me."  


She sat on his lap, straddling him and rested her head on his shoulder. "You make me happy, Patrick."  


Her lips on his cheek coaxed him to turn his head and take a kiss, arms wrapping her easily. Tenderness, love, contentment was what they shared. He nestled his cheek on top of her head. "It's all I want in the world."  


Lisbon wadded the top sheet between her legs to make it to the shower. Jane pulled the bottom sheet and wiped himself down. He showered after her and toed a tiny blood clot caught at the edge of the drain into the flow of water and away. He loved everything about his life.  


Teresa pulled the vinyl mattress cover. They joined together on a covert mission to wash the bedding before everything set. Buzzing the washateria a few times until it was empty, they dashed in and got them going in a washer, leaving with clean, dry sheets.  


Before they fell asleep that night, Lisbon spooned to his back, they decided to travel home Saturday so that they could have Sunday to stow everything and settle in for a quiet afternoon before returning to work on Monday.


	8. Friday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I take a little license with the shops and I've completely invented the existence of the grilled chicken shack with the tropical flair. I hope the citizens and those knowledgeable about Corpus Christi will forgive me.

"I want to go clothes shopping, Patrick."  


Jane turned from the kettle he'd just set to heat, stuck his hands in his pockets, stood stock still and stared at her with as neutral an expression as he could manage. "For how long?"  


"You don't want to go?"  


"Uh, no. Not really."  


"At least come with me long enough to get yourself a nice pair of sandals."  


He shifted his weight to one leg. "A sporty pair."  


"All right, bad boy."  


He smiled at her reference. "I'm glad to see you feel a lot better today!"  


"I do. Much better. You deliver good medicine." She kissed the air in his direction. "I saw some things in shops and I want to go back for a few."  


"Did you see my sandals?"  


"No. You'll have to choose for yourself."  


He cocked his head. "Let me get this straight. I had not a thought in my head about sandals. You feel I should have some nice, sporty ones. You don't have a pair in mind, but I have to go and haunt the shops for the pair you think I need. Do I have that right?"  


Now Lisbon stood still and stared calmly at Jane. Her eyes were as bright as emeralds. And as cool. "Yes."  


"What's wrong with these?" He held out a foot with a faded, tattered and hollowed out flip-flop.  


"I think those have had their day."  


"What if I don't?" A tiny bead of sweat sprouted across his upper lip.  


"Are you really that opposed to a new pair of sandals?"  


He shifted twice. Even his eyes shifted, and his lips parted as he slid his hands back into his pockets, feeling as if he'd somehow been outflanked. "Not opposed, no." Actually, he'd been wanting a pair of kicking-around sandals.  


"So, we'll get your sandals first and then you can trot off wherever you like while I finish my shopping. How's that?"  


It would have been completely unreasonable to disagree now. "Okay."  


Grabbing breakfast tacos from a bodega along the North Beach, they went straight to a men's store as Lisbon had promised. Jane chose a pair of beach bum heavy leather sandals that looked very nice on his handsome feet. Lisbon was off in the racks when he came to her.  


"I like you in that style of low-slung baggy shorts you're wearing. What do you think of these?" She held up an armful of three.  


His lower lip stuck out, suspicious of where this was going.  


Lisbon leaned in and spoke quietly. "The baggy leg makes it easy for me to reach your commando cock and your sweet, fuzzy balls." He pointed. "I like those two, not that one."  


"Thanks. What about these shirts?" There were three, separated on the rack for him to see.  


Jane pointed his nose at them, appearing detached. They really were comfortable looking shirts. Lightweight and roomy, washed cotton jersey, one with long sleeves and all in colors he liked. He nodded. "They look good."  


"Need underwear? Socks." She arched an eyebrow pointedly.  


Turning sharply to look at her amused expression, he frowned. "I'm good on socks."  


She chose three pair of the style of boxers he wore, holding them up for approval of pattern and color.  


He shrugged.  


"Okay. Jeans?" She walked to the next rack and showed him two.  


"I like the button-downs."  


"Mmmmm. Me, too." She leaned in close again. "I love the package you make in them."  


He blushed and opened his mouth to breathe, then smiled, his eyes gleaming at her.  


"Do you want to try them?"  


His smile crashed and he glared.  
"We'll just take our chances. These are the same size and brand as your favorite pair."  


"Can I go now?"  


"Of course. We only came in for sandals."  


"Ha-ha, Lisbon." He stepped up to pay for his things. When they parted outside the door, he said, "You owe me dinner."  


"I'd love to buy you dinner!" She kissed his cheek before he set off to the car to stash everything in the trunk.  


"I'll be surfing!" he said as he walked away.  


Lisbon's face froze. "You surf?"  


His only response was a smug smile. The Gulf wasn't known for its surfing but he'd eyed the waves today, and they were good enough to goof around in.  


Lisbon bought some summer clothes and shoes. On her way to the car, she almost passed by a tiny lingerie shop with exquisite and unique creations. She chose two bra and panty sets for herself. Then she chose a couple things to share with Jane. A pale strawberry pink shortie pajama set whose silk felt like cream on her skin. And a deep emerald green satin teddy that cut high across her lady parts and her fanny. She'd save those for home as surprises.  


Walking back from the car where she'd stowed her things next to Patrick's, she scanned the waves for him. There were several surfers out at the breakers but she couldn't be sure if he was one of them. She sat on the sand, gazing out to the sea until she spotted him. He wasn't bad. He really looked graceful balancing on his board with arms flung out and knees bent, his hips a fulcrum for his entire body. It was totally sexy!  


The week at the beach, living out of their silver hut, was coming to a close. The vacation had not been so much about getting away as creating the space to deepen who they would be to each other, wherever and however deep they wanted to go. Jane's natural grace as he balanced his board on the waves mirrored his natural grace with her. He understood her the way he understood the rising surf or a breaker, each a natural entity, as was Jane. Both of the two lovers were vital, wild, and a bit unpredictable inside their shared world. She was never quite the same wave, nor he the same surfer. The constant, the border, was set by the pure pleasure of what they were together. They were in tune while being entirely themselves. Jane drew out the natural female animal she never knew she was. And whatever she offered he received as a gift and he craved it.  


Jane got off his board and headed to shore, trying to see if he could spot Teresa. As he walked onto the sand, he found her running and jumping, calling his name and waving her hands in the air to get his attention, dark lashes accenting her eyes even from there. Her wavy hair bounced in her pony tail. Her breasts heaved, compact and full as she ran, shirt fluttering to show her beautiful belly, the navel just so, the flare of her hips and her strong short legs underneath it all. From a distance, she looked like pale cream, but he knew she was covered with tiny freckles everywhere. There was no one so gorgeous, inside and out, as his Teresa and, for the millionth time, he counted himself a very lucky man.  


The sight of him as she drew close brought her blood up. He was fit and sleek, graceful and beautifully made in every way. Bending to remove the board strap from his ankle, the water weight in his shorts tugged them down to peg on his male business, riding just above the crack of his sweet round ass in back. She gloried in the fact that Jane's male business was reserved for her eyes, for her body. She imagined the smell of his salty hair, blown dry by ocean breezes and beach sun. His fair skin took on a glow that would bring a little brown. All Teresa could think of was getting home, and herself under his impossibly large and graceful hands. She was the luckiest woman in the world.  


She joined him as he checked in the rental surfboard. "You looked fantastic! I didn't know you could do that!"  


Winking at her, he said, "You don't know everything about me," a reminder of when she had said that to him a few years ago. "Where are we going for dinner?"  


"I hope you aren't too disappointed that it's not a fancy place."  


"We're hardly dressed for fancy." He quirked a smile.  


"When I asked around, everyone recommended the chicken shack at the end of the shops. "Now wait," she cautioned as she saw him push out his stomach and rub it with a grimace. "It's not fried. It's done over wood coals, marinated in lots of spices and lime and served with grilled vegetables and crunchy bread from a wood-fired oven. After your strenuous afternoon, something light sounds good. With plenty of iced beer."  


Grinning as he let the air out of his lungs, he said enthusiastically, "That's more like it. Let's go!"  


The food was excellent and eaten at tables on the sand. Teresa's appetite had normalized and she ate her usual small portions while Patrick helped her with the rest, all chased with ice cold beer. Music came from speakers scattered about, tropical with a lot of merengue. As the sun went down, people started dancing in the sand and Patrick and Teresa joined them, not really knowing what they were doing but enjoying it and each other just the same. Patrick caught her on the slower numbers and held her close, nuzzling her neck.  


His voice was sultry in her ear. "You are the picture of what regular, vigorous sex does for a woman. I love keeping you in shape, putting that glow in your skin and knowing what is in your deep eyes."  


She pulled back to look at his face, his eyes as hot as his voice. "What do you mean? I've always been fit." Eyebrows knit together, she looked mildly puzzled, but amusement still hung at the corners. And the blush in her cheeks was pure pleasure.  


Patrick ran his hands along her back, across her hips, over the sides of her thighs. "Your lines are as sleek as a seal." Sliding his hand over her belly, he fanned his fingers and took in its entire small swell. "Your belly runs like art to your pussy." He thumbed there, pushing his body closer to press his hand in.  


She gasped and turned pink at the crass word he used but the enticing heat in his eyes drew her into his earthy compliment as she felt his thumb separate the lips of her sex, then move away as his hands settled on her hips.  


"Even your breasts sit higher. You're more beautiful every day, Teresa Lisbon, and I hope to continue adding to your fitness regimen." His lips sealed hers in a soft passionate kiss.  


"Sex does that?" She supposed it had to be true. The amount of time they'd spent, nearly every day of this holiday, added up to a lot of 'special' exercise. She knew from certain areas of tenderness, even occasional soreness, that some of her muscles were exercised only in their sexual activity. Maybe this was what she really saw in Jane as he came in from surfing, so vital and healthy. His smooth masculine lines held her fascination as she'd watched him.  


"I noticed you today, too. Coming out of the waves. You're so sleek that the weight of water in your shorts would have stripped you naked." Her hand rode over his masculine flesh and she felt it move, stiffen. "In front, only your cock held them up."  


Softly huffing as she held him in thrall, moving in the sand to the music, her hand roved the lines of his chest and back, finally settling on his hips. Dipping lower, her small fingers grasped his flesh and caressed the round cheeks completely.  


"In the back, the swell of the finest, roundest ass in the male sex barely kept your wet shorts from falling to the ground. If I'd just barely tucked a finger under the waistband, I would have been in your ass crack." Two could play this game and she felt him swell again.  


"Well," he whispered in her ear. "I guess we'll just have to keep each other from getting flabby."  


If they had been alone, there would have been a sizzling roll on the beach. But they smiled in pleasure and contentment, swaying to the music instead.  


The night stretched out ahead of them. Both were keenly aware they would leave in the morning, returning to the grisly world of crime solving and their hectic schedules. Relaxing into a soothing evening swim, they floated until the stars came out. Looking into the deep sparkling velvet dome of the night, they began to speak of what they hoped would be their live's eternal things. Love and longing. Physical pleasure. Sleeping in each other's arms. Raising children. Seeing grandchildren. Growing old together.  


"I almost missed all of this." Patrick held her hand as they drifted together in the shallows of the low swelling sea.  


"We almost missed being together. Or, either of us could have died. So many times. We may still. But we made it this far and I couldn't be happier." Teresa tightened the fingers holding the edge of his palm as his thumb swept the bones of her hand.  


He was quiet for too long, his hold on her fretful and distracted.  


"What is it, Patrick? What's bothering you?  


"Something I don't want to say."  


Moving closer, she entwined their arms. "Don't be afraid. It's too late to chase me off, now. You're stuck with me."  


"It's . . . it's when I said I almost missed everything with us."  


She let him pause as long as he needed.  


"I meant . . . well . . . I mean I nearly left it all behind."  


Something dark tried to form in the pit of her stomach. "I don't understand. Are you talking about your exile?"  


"No. I'd stayed alive long enough to have a sliver of hope by then. The tiny hope that I would see you again, somehow."  


Teresa wasn't sure why tears sprang to her eyes or why a hollow sadness had opened in her heart. "Jane. You're hedging around something and you're frightening me. Just tell me what it is."  


"Yeah. It's just . . . I, I still had my gun when I strangled Red John."  


"I know. It was found with his body."  


"There were a few seconds there . . . when life had finally left him . . . I felt so empty and alone . . . so, so ecstatic and so vile . . . my long quest was over and I had nothing more to live for-."  


"Jane-"  


"No. Let me finish. He was dead. But Angie and Charlotte were still dead, too. The release-it was physical, Teresa-left me empty. I . . . I, I pointed the gun under my chin to, to . . . end things, put an end to the . . . the horrible tragedy of the Jane family . . ."  


He could hear Teresa choking back her cries as she kept silent to listen to him, her arm gripping his, squeezing his fingers. The sea was warm in the night, buoying them like a mother's arms.  


Entwining their fingers, his voice became raspy, almost croaking. "But I thought of you, being with you, seeing you again. Maybe we could be together someday if I just stayed alive and watched for the opportunity. Maybe there could be a new Jane story. But mostly, when the nose of the gun was cold against my throat, I thought of how deeply it would hurt you to find me dead. At my own hand. Like . . . like your father. It was so wrong. I couldn't do that to you. It was too horrible . . I couldn't-"  


Lisbon stood in the shallow water, sobbing now, and then kneeled, leaning over to take him in her arms. "I'm so glad, so . . . glad you stayed for me, Jane. If you . . . if you had done . . . that, I would have been shattered . . . beyond repair. I would never be right again. Thank you for staying for me." Pulling him even closer, she sat in the sand as the shallow water swirled around them, floating him into her lap so that she could hold him properly, hold him close, as he held onto her.  


"I dropped it and started running, from everything I had to leave in the past. Every step away from you, I was running towards you. Do you see?"  


She nodded against his cheek.  


Suddenly drowsy, Patrick felt safe in the shelter of Teresa's arms, home. He sighed and relaxed into the silence of their embrace, the deep ocean whispering far towards the dark horizon, the stars and the rising moon shedding their somnambulant light.  


When at last they trudged to the car, their bodies sang with a delicious lethargy, full and quiet.  


The mood followed them into the night as they lolled on the couch silently thinking their own thoughts until Lisbon voiced her ultimate fear.  


"Patrick. You don't ever think about . . . about killing yourself anymore, do you?"  


"No, sweetheart! Never! I'm so happy. I would never leave you . . . by my own hand, by my own will. You can put that worry out of your mind."  


"Good. I love you so much . . . I don't ever want to be parted from you."  


"I love you, too, Teresa. We're stuck like glue, you and me, okay?"  


"Yeah. We are."  


Lisbon rested on her stomach, her head opposite from where Jane sat. Her legs scissored him, one behind his back and the other bent across his lap. Absently, Jane brushed a light hand across her bottom until she felt the electric sensation he generated would magnetize her bones.  


Moaning, she turned over, and put both legs on his lap, lifting her shirt to bare her stomach. His hand covered it entirely and he rubbed as electrically as he had her bottom. His long, wicked fingers slipped beneath her shirt to roll over her bare breasts and down her ribs. Her breathing picked up and he looked at her now. Their heating gaze locked and he watched the feelings he created surface in her eyes, sigh from her parted lips. Teresa saw tender pleasure in his stormy eyes, desire infusing them as his mouth moved, tongue flicking out to lick his upper lip before it closed to cover his teeth where they held the fleshy lower. His thumb anchored at the edges of her ribs, a frame for the sun-drenched skin that covered the sunken swell of her belly, and he ran his thumb over their bumpy border. She pulled her shirt up further so that he could play with her nipples, and he toyed with them so gently and for so long it became a maddening tease that created tremendous want, centering between her legs. She could not keep them still.  


She saw the rise in his shorts and wanted it. Squirming out of her shorts and panties, she let one leg dangle from the couch, opening herself to him. The other she laid across his lap, pinning the length of his full erection against the crease of his thighs. The brazen exposure was riveting. Eyes dark and sultry, his lust was burning blue-green ocean fire. He petted her thighs and she raised her hips, so he ran his hands over her belly, feeling the little swell sunk between her enticing hip bones, the small jut of bone under her mons and then glided the sides of her hips. She moaned and raised her hips again. He fingered the creases at the top of her thighs, sinking his fingers between them but wouldn't give her what she so obviously wanted. Her eyes were deeply dilated when he looked into them.  


"Rub me." Her voice was low.  


He smiled knowingly. "I am."  


She spread her legs wider, filling his eyes with pink. "Here." She put a hand on her open vulva, using two fingers to part herself at the top and show him the pearly pink curl peeking from its hood.  


His heart pounded, racing at the bold display of naked want. "Oh. There."  


"Please don't tease me." She touched what she exposed, covered it with a fingertip no bigger than the dainty little organ.  


His Teresa from even a week ago would have never exposed herself in such an open request. As he fully realized the trust and comfort it implied, the thrill was consuming flame, the equivalent of baring his swollen, needy cock to her.  


He slipped his finger under hers and tapped the tip of her clit so lightly that he knew only by her thrust and indrawn breath that he had touched the right place. Mashing gently there, he felt the nub stiffen more before he removed his hand. Lifting moisture from his wet tongue, he let his sopping fingertips glide softly up her labia, using three to rub her clit and the surrounding flesh. Moving the errant string out of the way with his other hand, he lifted her knee to massage the fanny cheek. She groaned when he pinched deep into the muscle, the added stimulation bringing an arching climax, his fingers still rolling in tandem over her excited flesh. Afterwards, she let her leg fall limply off the couch as she caught her breath and allowed her thumping womb to quiet.  


When she sat up, she pushed up the leg of his shorts, the one with the bulge, and he sprang free, growing more rigid under her hungry eyes and watering mouth. Her hand covered him immediately and she scooted to his lap to take him into her mouth.  


"Oh, Teresa . . ." He sighed as she tongued him all over. He rubbed his hand on her back, toyed with her pony tail. When she started sucking and took him in as far as she could, massaging him, he filled his hand with her bottom, squeezing when the sensation was especially intense. He was about to come and tried to warn her, nudging her shoulder to make her let go. But she shook his hand off and curled in closer, insisting on her way, sucking harder and squeezing him near her throat, the bumpy back of her tongue pushing him mercilessly in rhythm against her satiny soft palate. Wadding her shirt with his fist, he crossed the edge of ecstasy and filled her mouth as the spasms took over.  


His heart welled with a searing love. What might be judged as lewd and unladylike would be known only by them, each mated to the other. It was a physical expression from his mate that told of her deep trust as she experimented and developed the full expression of her sexuality with him. She invited, welcomed him to trust her to do the same with her. Whether she was direct or demure, brazen or seductive, kitten or tigress, she had full confidence in his love, that he would meet any overture from her in love, to feel no shame in what her body or her mood wanted of him, what she wanted to give him. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her, tasting himself on her lips and on the tongue that delved into his mouth. His love for her was pain in that moment because it was beyond his expression, something he longed to tell her and could only say, "I love you," and kiss her again.


	9. Saturday, Sunday and Monday

Jane awoke in the morning to Lisbon's feet. Small, shapely. Tiny toes wiggling. Heat spread from the sensations between his legs and he already wanted to come. She was upside down with her mouth on him, warm, exploring, her hand drifting along his hip. "Mmmmm. My wonderful succubus, waking me from dreams with insistent reality." He sucked her big toe as sleep left him and he recovered from the immediate and urgent need to flood her mouth, glad to prolong the pleasure she gave him.  


She breathed a humming chuckle, a very pleasant feeling on the head of his cock, and then lifted her head to look at him. He cast one eye to meet her gaze, drawing his tongue past the base of the toe.  


A moue of comical frankness. "I'm not sucking your butt, honey."  


Groaning as she moved her mouth and tongue on him, he managed to say after a low rumble, "No? Now I want it. I can feel you already, behind my balls, licking my sparkling clean little rosebud." He scraped his teeth on the meat of her toe, then bit the pad and listened to her hiss, flicked his gaze again. "I'll do you . . . you'll like what I do."  


Ignoring his invitation for the moment, Lisbon changed tack. "This hard cock is pointing at me every morning. I couldn't resist it."  


"Ahhhh, Nature has such a fine way of keeping a woman's interest." He groaned softly as he felt her fingers brushing behind his balls. "And therefore, a man's."  


She lifted her head to catch his eye again. "No one has kept me this interested in a very long time."  


Brows knitted together, he cocked his head. "No one? Not even P-?"  


"Stop. Right now. Or we'll both be disappointed."  


His curiosity about her sexual behavior with Pike was as intense as the jealousy it triggered, even in ignorance. No. Especially in ignorance. Probably a good thing she wouldn't talk about it. He'd work into a jealous fit and then suffer misery over the pain of knowing. Teresa had to sense this and would not hurt him that way. It was enough to know that his hard on enticed her in the morning and . . . the other guy's . . . hadn't. "But morning sex? Since when? You? Weekends, maybe, if I draw you in with an erotic sneak attack."  


Now she laughed out loud and used her hand to keep him stimulated. As if her face at the level of his dick wasn't enough. He slowly pumped through her wrapped fingers, loving their cascade over the edge of its plump head.  


"You ass. Saturday is the weekend. And it only goes by days of the week because I have to get up early and get to work. On weekends, I can indulge. But I admit. Morning sex has never been a favorite. I'm usually too lazy."  


"I could wake you earlier so you'd have time . . . "  


"I wouldn't do that if I were you."  


"Hmm. Just checking. Stop talking now. I'm lonely. And I don't want to deprive you." He grinned and thrust through her fingers to poke her under the chin. Taking her firmly above the knees, he pulled her up a few inches to more easily reach the soft places between her legs. There was a string so he moved it back and poked it between her cheeks at the bridge of flesh between front and back. Squeaking, she wiggled, also good on his cock. It was an unnecessary signal she didn't want him to play back there just then, but it helped him tuck the string deeper.  


Teresa had drawn him close to orgasm twice already when he gripped her thighs, pulling until her stomach was on his chest, her opened legs propped on his shoulders. The focus of his mouth was a little pearl of flesh and he sucked and teased it like he would a nipple of her breast. The distraction slowed her down on him but excited her so much that she couldn't be still, her strong thighs gripping his head. Adjusting her legs again, he sank his thumbs deep inside the bottom of her cheeks and squeezed them, massaging her whole ass with his strong hands. She sighed and relaxed immediately. Now he could hold her in place and return his attentions to the firm little bud. She started moaning onto him then, gripping him with both hands as she licked him like ice cream. The chills up his back nearly made his hair stand on end.  


She wanted him to come because she could feel herself pushing that delicious edge. When he pressed his lips to force her clit out of its hood, he batted it with his tongue and she lost it. The climax had her wailing and Patrick used his firm grip to rub her on his lips. His suckle was more tender now, but she already felt the pull of another orgasm.  


Nipping the top of his thigh, she returned both hands to his cock, unleashing her tongue and lips on the head until she had drained him of so much intentional action that his mouth stilled. She turned and rested her strained back muscles on his stomach, looking into his relaxed eyes and keeping one hand around his cock while placing the other between her legs. "Put your hand on top of mine. Feel what I do to myself."  


It was so erotic, Jane could hardly think, her fingers working under his, her body arched to stuff him into her mouth again, driving him to orgasmic oblivion. When he was close, he pushed her wriggling fingers aside to burrow with his mouth and tongue, sucking and lashing her clit as he moved relentlessly against the rough pillows of her stubbled labia. She came, moaning and humming on him until he gasped release, streaming hot jets onto her breasts after pulling from her ecstatic mouth.  


They had rub rash. His upper lips and her lower were raw and scraped.  


Lisbon felt the sting and Jane tried to lick it away. "Ow! What did you do to me down there?"  


"Sorry. I burned you. Usually our hair cushions us from that. Right now we both have stubble." He flipped to the bottom of the bed so that she could see his face. "Look what you did to my mouth."  


Carefully she touched his upper lip with one finger to avoid the chafed places, especially raw on the sides of his mouth. "I love your stubble mist. It's the sexiest thing on the planet. I always imagined rubbing myself on it. Usually sitting on your face on your couch in the bullpen."  


"Lisbon! You naughty little Agent." He kissed her lightly, puckering hard so that very little of his mouth touched her. "I think we have a wealth of couch fantasies between us."  


"You, too?"  


He looked askance. "Now you're coy? Of course. Constantly. Yours in your office and mine in the bullpen."  


A wicked grin on her face, she reached low and filled her hand with his resting goods, always surprised at their soft sweetness as she cosseted the plump lobes. "Maybe we can catch a few minutes on your couch soon. Get to work extra early . . . or stay extra late?"  


It felt so good when she held him like that. "Don't get me started again. We'll christen the couch. And soon." He backed out of her gentle hand and gave her a smacking kiss. "Come on. Vitamin E for both of us."  


They showered and put on some of their new clothes. Whenever she stood near, Lisbon would knock her toe against the thick sole of his new shoes and say, "Nice sandals." Or tug on his new shirt or shorts and say how handsome or sexy he looked.  


"All right. You win. I'm enjoying my new clothes."  


She kissed his cheek.  


"You didn't have to trick me into it, you know."  


"I think I did. And it wasn't much of a trick. You just didn't want to take any time with it unless I sweetened the pot."  


He snorted. "Dirty talk. That's what you call a sweetener?"  


She cupped him in front. "Of course. Don't you?"  


They both chuckled and she fondled him from behind before sitting down for breakfast.  


Jane could tell she had something on her mind but he waited until she brought it up.  


"Maybe the breakfast table isn't the time for this . . ."  


"I think it's a great time and place to talk about things."  


"Well . . . sorry about my period. It'll be over by tomorrow."  


"Don't be. I love your period." He gave her a broad, sly smile. "And we adapted very well, I thought."  


She touched his hand as he dipped the spoon into his cereal bowl. "Hey. On our vacation. I just had the period from hell. I'm sorry if I scared you or ruined anything."  


"How could you ruin anything? I love being with you, whatever is going on."  


"Thank you." Then she did the thing with her eyes that told him she wanted a full answer. "And . . ?"  


He had sworn not to lie to her, so he couldn't deny it. Raking his hand through his hair, he cocked his head and jerked his chin towards her a little bit, eyes lowered. "Yeah, well . . ." he rasped. "It was a tiny bit scary at times. I don't like to see you hurt and nothing to do about it." He looked at her. "But mostly it was wonderful and I treasure getting to make love to you when you were bloody."  


She rolled her eyes, a shy smile blooming. "Yes. I know. You made me feel wonderful. You were so tender. I think you helped things along."  


"I love helping," he said through half-lidded eyes, a goofy smile as he remembered the experience.  


"I know you do."  


They snickered at each other and dropped the subject. They'd both had enough of it for a while.  


By mid-morning everything was stowed and fastened inside.  


It was time to return the rental car and get on the road. He caught her from behind as they were opening the door of the Airstream, cupping and squeezing her breasts. "Have I told you what wonderful things this new sundress does for your tits?" He lowered a hand under the hem, blue as the sapphire in his ring, and scratched low on the front of her panties.  


"Mmmmm. If this does so much for you I can't wait to see how you like our other presents."  


"Oooo-oohhh," he said in sing-song. "I'll let you have your little mystery. Time for your job, now."  


Teresa looked at him. "I know. Maybe you haven't noticed I've been studying up."  


"Nope. That one got past me."  


"I'll disconnect and stow all the tubes and cables. Then you come check me."  


When she called him after a while, he looked things over, checking the caps and fasteners. He was clearly impressed. "Right in one, Lisbon!" He gave the caps an extra twist. "Just making sure they're tight enough. My hands are a little stronger. All right! You pass inspection!"  


"Ha ha!"  


"This wasn't a dare, Lisbon."  


"It was to me!" She did a little victory dance, kicking up dust.  


"Cops," he said with a smile and rolled his eyes.  


"Give me the keys to the rental. I'll meet you at the place."  


The drive home was uneventful. Lisbon ate the rest of the pistachio ice cream sitting cross-legged in the passenger seat, leaning to put large spoonfuls in Jane's wide-open mouth while he kept his eyes on his driving. They found a Latin station on the radio and dance-wiggled in their seats.  


Lunch was in a café with a parking lot full of big rig trucks. Fat juicy burgers and fresh-cut fries, lots of salt for Lisbon. Jane had only a couple of her fries at first but sucked down a fresh-dipped and spun malt, extra malt for Jane. He let Lisbon have a couple of pulls on the straw, but she stole the old fashioned glass when he wasn't looking and gulped from the lip, giving herself a moustache and a stinging brain-freeze.  


"Karma," Jane said without sympathy and pulled her fries to himself, moving them out of reach every time she grabbed for them. He stuffed them into his mouth by the multiples, looking right at her and making a show of gobbling them.  


"Fine! I don't care. Eat them all." She turned to the side, her legs stretched on the seat and her back to the wall. Then she folded her arms and refused to look at him, even as he tried to push the fries back over to her. She just pushed them back towards him without turning.  


"Come on. They'll get cold."  


Still not looking at him, she daintily retrieved the basket by its rim, brought it to her lap and finished what was left of her fries.  


"That'll teach you to steal my malt!"  


"Oh, big lesson, Patrick. Thank you." She wanted to stick her tongue out at him but there were too many people, some watching and sniggering already.  


She bought a pinwheel for the Airstream antenna at the cashier stand.  


"What are you going to do with that?"  


"Watch it while we drive."  


"Who's going to put it on?"  


Darting a surprised glance at him, she stopped. "Won't you put it on?" she said with chagrin.  


"Don't you think it's a little silly for such a . . . an impressive rig?" His mouth wiggled as he tried not to smile at himself.  


She blew a raspberry and snorted a laugh. "It will be even more impressive with an ornament."  


Scooping her into his arms, he took the pinwheel package from her hand and kissed her soundly, making her smile. "It will look awesome. And I'm sure it will be fun to watch." He fetched the little stepladder from inside the Airstream and attached the spinner. It took off with a whirl of color.  


"I like it," he said.  


They rolled up to the house about dinnertime and ordered pizza before unpacking everything. It wasn't a lot really, new clothes making much of it and a bit of food. Soon they were sitting on the couch, arms interlocked and holding hands, an empty pizza box on the coffee table and a few empty beer bottles lying in it. They took a steaming shower together and only washed, going to bed early and sighing with the pleasure of being in their big soft bed. They slept soundly until the sun woke them.  


Neither felt like cooking breakfast and they didn't feel like eating out, so Lisbon made a run for some pastries. Jane had coffee and tea ready when she got back.  


A little bored and restless at first, Lisbon remembered there was quite a bit of washing to do. Lounging on the couch together, they watched a couple movies, taking breaks to process the laundry. The Airstream would be dropped for for a badly needed detailing on Wednesday at lunchtime if cases allowed. It was all relatively painless.  


Mid-afternoon, they went for groceries to tide them over a few days. Sunday afternoon for a trip to the grocery store? What were they thinking? The aisles were crowded, people jostled one another at every counter and case, then long lines at checkout. Harried by the time it was over, they picked up their favorite Thai on the way home.  


Sunday nights usually found them making frantic love, not knowing what the week would bring to sap their élan. Too restless for that, they opted for an early bedtime again.  


It wasn't that they dreaded returning to work. It was saying goodbye to their carefree week in their silver hut at the beach that flattened the mood and made each a little anxious. Sleep did not come and they were both too restless and distracted to concentrate on one another. Shortly before midnight they turned to each other anyway.  


"I can't sleep, Patrick."  


"I know. Me, too."  


"I wish we were still at the beach."  


"We had a great time, didn't we?" He pressed his nose to her shoulder and put his arm at her waist.  


"Maybe we could fall sleep in the Airstream . . ."  


"You know what'd we do in there."  


Lisbon chuckled. "I know. You fuck me good, you know that?"  


"Mmmmm. No. You fuck me good."  


"No. You fuck me better. I'm not kidding."  


"I'm not either. You're the better fucker."  


"Stop talking. You're making me horny. I'll never get to sleep."  


He poked her hip. "I have something right here that I bet will help you get to sleep."  


"It will take too long."  


"I don't know about that. We're pretty good fuckers, I hear." He poked her again and moved his hand under her top to cup a breast and tease the nipple.  


"Mmm. That feels good. Do the other one."  


She felt wonderful in his hand, full and soft. Feathering the entire breast with his long fingers, he gave both of them a tender squeeze before lavishing attention on her nipples. She reached to him for a kiss and he moved his hand lower to slide into her panties, circling her entrance with a finger. "Is there anything in my way down here?"  


She snickered. "No, that's over."  


"In that case, get your panties off. I'm going down."  


She laughed at his dramatics as his head slid past her belly. He lifted it when she took her panties off.  


Her fleshy triangle was plump, like her labia. Kissing them as tenderly as he would her mouth, the tension in his body grew with his arousal and made him ache for her. "Oh . . . it seems like forever since I tasted you inside. Open up for me."  


Teresa knew he was getting serious. His needy sighs and intimate words set a fire low in her belly. While those feelings filled her, he pushed her legs apart and put his wide velvety tongue on her skin. It was warm and sensuous, licking and licking. Pointing it, he pushed in and out, fucking her with it. It relaxed her and she let the heat take over. His tongue tired and he returned to lapping her clitoris, inserting a finger into her warm passageway, then two, rubbing everything inside. She started to moan, trying not to writhe her hips because his fingers wriggled in just the right spot. The tight little organ stood in the wet warmth of his strong broad tongue. It seemed so long since he'd kissed her like this or had his long straight fingers deep inside.  


Patrick felt the knot of her excited clit rake his tongue. He wanted to taste every part of it from every angle! Her scent welled with the moisture at her lips, fresh and starchy over her soap. Clean and invigorating. It drove him from his senses, putting a damp sheen on his heated face. As soon as he felt her start to quake, he shoved off his pajama pants and dipped into her, barely entering to spread the wet for when he would impale her completely.  


He remembered the first time they made love. The import of what they were about to do had made his head swim and Teresa had brought him back by saying his name and dipping her hips to capture him. How he dove into her, delirious as he shared the pleasure in her eyes and face!  
She said his name now. "Patrick," and captured his cheeks in her hands, looking into his eyes. "I love you."  


He pushed all the way in, sliding deep into her pressing heat, a cry strangled in his chest by a rush of sensation that started where they were joined and spread liquid heat everywhere. He rested on her, panting for a few moments until he caught his breath. As he circled into her, starting slow and picking up speed, she met each thrust with a twist of her hips, moving in counterpoint. His release was near and he didn't want it yet.  


He stilled her so that they could stay connected, then put his legs over hers, listening to her pant as he improvised the new position, her restricted core creating a novel pull on him. Bringing his legs up, he pushed hers closer together with his heels and began to move. She came almost immediately but the friction called him like sirens on the rocks and wouldn't let him stop.  


Soon his legs were wide open, his knees bending like a paper frog as he dug his toes into the mattress, both for traction and to force his hips low enough to move in her. It pinned her legs just like he pinned her core to the bed, lodged in her and pumping. The power of his hips helped him curl into her, the strain on them intense. But it drew him deeper, warming his muscles and flexing his joints enough that he stopped worrying about popping his femurs from their hip sockets. It felt so hair-raisingly good, scraping the top of his cock along the top of the hot fist where her pelvic bone lay close and unyielding. Her movements seemed desperate beneath him but her cries were delirious pleasure.  


Lisbon screamed her last orgasm, squeezing him as she tried to arch until his brain must have short-circuited and made his cock slicing into Teresa his only focal point. Her crushing satin muscles drove him to go harder, deeper, his speed rapid and deliberate, his hips level and toes dug in to trigger the springs of his powerful thighs. A continuous wavering cry mounted in volume from Teresa's thrashing head. At the crescendo, she bit his jaw and held on, driving her fingernails into bloody trails down his back as he spilled into her, balls in a fury of heat and spasm that kept him thrusting. When she finally let go of his jaw, but switched to his shoulder, he growled through the agony as she bit him and bit him, sending an ecstasy of relief and pleasure when it finally stopped, Teresa crying at his shoulder with her overwhelming release.  


She managed to gasp, "What was that? Oh, Christ Jesus! What was that?"  


"I don't know. I don't know." He could barely talk in his struggle for breath. "Fuck!"  


She started to laugh at that but stopped as he unfolded his legs to roll off of her. He moved stiffly and groaned as each joint straightened. "Are you okay?"  


"I'm not sure. I've never done this before."  


"I bit you everywhere and I think I scratched your back." There was blood on her fingernails. "Oh, God. I've made you bleed. I'm sorry. Get up. We need to wash you off where you're cut."  


They moved like strangely euphoric and satisfied victims of a train wreck.  


Lisbon went in the bathroom first and put her hand on the light switch.  


"Just the sun lamps, okay, Teresa?"  


She soaped him and ran the hottest water he could stand over his scratches and bites. "Your skin is broken everywhere but at least you're not dripping blood."  


He rolled his eyes at her, but said nothing.  


"You're not going to be able to hide that jaw in the morning. It's an obvious bite and I don't think make up will cover it."  


He examined the awful marks in the mirror. "Yep. Definitely attacked by a cannibal."  


"Stop. I feel bad enough already. What the hell were you doing with your legs?"  


"I don't know. Sort of making like a paper frog."  


"A paper frog."  


"Sort of, yes. I wasn't trying to, but that's what it felt like. Only with more muscle. I nearly pulled my legs out of my hip sockets."  


"I think it sent me dissociative."  


Gathering her close, he smiled and squashed her breasts into his chest. "A dissociative cannibal. Is that who I'm fucking? No wonder I look like this. You're dangerous."  


"Well, I'm fucking a giant paper frog with muscles who's gonna get after it until his legs pop off!"  


"But did you like it?"  


"God, I loved it!" She wrapped an arm around his neck and stood on tip-toe to kiss him and hum in his mouth. "I came three times just from your frog business. You wouldn't stop moving in me like that. You had me so pinned I couldn't move. That's what made me bite. The pressure, it just kept building until I lost it."  


They both snickered at that but she hissed when he winced as she spread antibiotic ointment over his wounds.  


She handed him the naproxen. "You're going to need this. Take some now. And eat something with it."  


He grabbed a piece of bread and a small glass of milk from the kitchen, finishing them at bedside. "Can you sleep now?"  


"What do you think? You wore me out!" She wrapped a hand on his neck and pulled him forehead to forehead, looking him in the eyes. "And I hope you do it again sometime." Cutting the lamp, she flopped into bed and spooned his back, kissing it until she dropped away.  


The alarm went off far too early.  


The naproxen had allowed Jane to get some sleep and although he was still somewhat stiff, walking was not a problem. Lisbon's hips felt pretty sore, so she took a naproxen herself. By the time they needed to leave for work, they looked fairly normal.  


Lisbon covered what she could of Jane's jaw with makeup. It reduced the glare of the fresh scabs and the bruising but did little to conceal the evidence of their existence. Any trained FBI agent could figure out it was her bite and they would be walking into a building teeming with agents.  


Abbott was walking by as they exited the elevator. "Jane! Lisbon! Welcome back!" He smiled and shook their hands. Spotting Jane's bite, he tucked his hands in his pockets and leaned closer, head moving fluidly to survey it completely, then noticing the shining skin of the healing rub burn. Still bent, he looked briefly at Jane who did not look back and then his eyes shifted to Lisbon, her face going red. He decided there were some things he didn't need to hear. He straightened and turned, his mouth held like he was trying to contain an ice cube, desperately keeping a smile at bay because he knew it would lead to laughter. "Carry on."  


His hand on her back, Jane waited for Lisbon to exit first, then walked next to her, hands in his pockets.  


Leaning towards her, he groused, "How did he get so high up in the FBI? His face is an open book."  


"He did that for our benefit," She elbowed him. "And you know it. Others might not feel the need to stay so close-mouthed."  


They stopped in the break room for tea and coffee. Cho was there, putting his lunch away. "Hey! Welcome back! He hugged Lisbon and shook Jane's hand, clapping him on the shoulder. "We've missed you around here." He spotted the bite and then the worn-shiny skin near Janes lips and stood stock still, face going deadpan.  


Jane watched him run through scenarios in his head, the correct one causing only a flicker of his eyelids when he figured out the rub burn.  


"Huh."  


Jane pressed his lips together and quirked his head, a dare to Cho without looking him in the eye.  


Cho took the dare. "I didn't know they had piranha in the Gulf of Mexico."  


Muffled and a little high-pitched, Jane's response was noncommittal. He walked around Cho to make his tea and put a quick arm around Lisbon who rolled her eyes and smiled.  


"Good one, Cho," she called as the man left the room.  


Fischer nearly ran them down, striding somewhere, as they stepped out of the break room. "Hi, you two! Glad you're back. Did you have a good time?"  


"A wonderful time!" Lisbon smiled, her eyes sparkling to confirm her words.  


Fischer smiled back, focused on Lisbon's expression and then smiled wider. "Aaahhhh! Very good." She turned her smile on Jane and reached to shake his hand. As he extended it, Fischer exclaimed, "Oh!" She grabbed his left hand to compare, seeing the fingers bare and the indentation where he wore his old ring. "Oh!," she said louder, dropping his left hand. "You have a new ring! It's gorgeous! Did you give that to him, Lisbon?"  


Hesitating a moment at the bald question, Lisbon nodded, the sparkle returning to her eye, sharing it with Fischer.  


Keeping her eyes trained on Lisbon, she smiled knowingly. "A promise ring?"  


Lisbon looked at Jane who was tolerating the girlish exchange. He smiled softly at her joy and nodded.  


"Yes! I gave it to him Tuesday. It's titanium with a sapphire. I love the way it flashes!" She held his right hand, turning it so that Fischer could admire the ring and the stone.  


"Oh, yes. It looks made by elves!"  


"I know! And the quicksilver gray makes the sapphire pop like blue fire against it."  


"It does! So beautiful. Little waves of quicksilver that picked up a gem."  


Jane cleared his throat. He'd been patient, but really, how long could the two of them talk about a ring?  


Fischer took the hint and smiled at them both. "Well . . . I guess . . . Congratulations!"  


"Thanks," they both said quietly, smiling and turning the same shade of pink.  


Wiley ran up before Fischer had a chance to walk away, stopping short and a little out of breath. "Hi, you guys! I just heard you were back!" It was immediately obvious why he'd hurried as he peered straight at the bite on Jane's jaw. "Woowww," he said, obviously impressed.  


Jane frowned at him. "Oh, you've heard about that already."  


Wiley still stared at the bite. Something about Jane's mouth looked funny, too, but it didn't register and he focused on the bite again. "Everybody's talking about it." Then he glanced sharply at Jane and Lisbon. "Oh, I mean . . . uh-."  


"Oh my god!" Fischer had just noticed the object of Wiley's stare and looked at Lisbon, blurting out, "Did you do that to him?"  


Jane's mouth snapped open, gapping from surprise at Fischer's question. He took Lisbon's hand and pulled her away before the two women could expose him blow by blow. "Okay, we've run the gamut now. Is there anyone else that needs to gawk and comment? Fine, we'll just go to the bullpen and get to work, then."  


They sat on the couch together, regaining their emotional balance.  


"Wow." Lisbon looked at Jane. "Are we okay?"  


"We feel sturdy."  


Lisbon considered his words and then smiled. "Yeah. We do." She got up and went to sit at her desk, beginning to sift through the messages and papers that had accumulated there.  


Jane stretched out comfortably on his couch, thinking pleasantly about intimate adversities. Yes, they felt sturdy. Rooted more deeply together, embedded and inseparable. He drifted into a relaxing doze with a smile on his face.  


Lisbon couldn't help but look at him, so at home in his pride of place, fair and golden, all hers. The closeness she felt after a week alone with him made them feel new and the field of their intimacy expansive and unending, so much more ahead of them to know and be, together. Sturdy. It was the perfect word.


End file.
